


The Girl and Her Knight, The Boy and His Light

by Arenoptara



Series: Seifie/Selfer "Drowning in Fire" Universe [2]
Category: Final Fantasy VIII
Genre: Domestic, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Mostly Fluff, Post-Canon, Post-Game(s), Rated T for language, Slow Burn, lots of fluff, nerds discover feelings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-15
Updated: 2017-06-18
Packaged: 2018-09-08 17:42:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 23,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8854885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arenoptara/pseuds/Arenoptara
Summary: The world has changed and is barely a shred of what Selphie remembers. With her resignation from a diminished Garden in full effect, she heads to Winhill to roomie with friend Seifer Almasy.Collection of vignettes documenting Selphie and Seifer's life post-Drowning in Fire.





	1. Moving Out, Moving On

**Author's Note:**

> It's more of a slow burn if you read Drowning Fire beforehand. And also, not reading that before this is kind of weird. I mean, it gives SO much context to their relationship. Highly recommend. :) :) :) :)
> 
> 12/22 note: I've realized that Winhill is technically probably in the southern hemisphere, making the seasons switched from the way I actually have it (with just-northern-hemisphere-based weather). That, or it's on the equator. Honestly, I'm not rightly sure because it's hard for me to really tell. But I'm keeping the weather as I have it now, with winter in December-February. If y'all have any really honest gripes with this, I mean, let me know I guess, but I'm not going to change it. lmao

Only Balamb Garden remained. The other two Gardens still existed, but not in the same capacity. They’d been turned into universities to train kids from all over the world in a multitude of subjects, not one of them being mercenary work, or anything related to fighting or warfare at all. Of course, it would take time for them to really settle in; they were so new, and people were timid, sending in their kids slowly because _what if they were still sending their kids to secretly become soldiers?_

And though Balamb Garden was still up and running, it had been grounded to the island. Not to mention it had been reduced in size by nearly half, _and_ they’d put a cap on how many SeeDs could be working at any given time. Squall and Quistis were staying on, but Irvine wasn’t sure what he wanted to do yet. And Zell, well, he had been doing so little in way of SeeD work that he kind of just drifted out quietly and no one seemed to notice a difference. He was starting his own self-defense school in Balamb, close to Rinoa’s animal shelter.

Then there was Selphie, still unsure how everything had ended up like this. But she had put her resignation in a year ago, to officially take effect once the situation with Sanctus had been resolved. The past year had been strange indeed: less war-like, and more global negotiations. There were no more bombings, but there had been some protests that had incited violence. Garden had tried its best in the negotiations with Esthar, Dollet, Galbadia, and Timber, but in the end, the public opinion overruled them.

And now Selphie had officially turned in her uniform. They’d given her a ceremony the night before, followed by a going-away party, but no one had really been very excited. The world was so different from the one they’d been born into, and also the one they’d fought in. Now there wasn’t much fighting to do.

The end of Sanctus had seemed so far away when Selphie had given Quistis her official letter of resignation, but the year, so full of tension and excitement and suspense, had gone by rather quickly. Now there she was, 29 years old, a bag slung over her shoulder—the last of her belongings she’d really wanted to keep—standing at Garden’s entrance, looking into the grand main room. Even if the world had changed, Garden itself still looked the same, and that was comforting. If she wanted to find solace in the good memories of the earlier days, she could always come back, and she would always be welcome.

Quistis had helped her search for post-Garden career options, but most of them had seemed like temporary gigs. In the end, she knew she’d eventually return to Esthar; there was plenty to do in that country, enough to fill a lifetime. Besides, she still owed them her continued thoughts and ideas for the space program, even if some of them now were a little outdated. But that was fine; she’d have new ideas in little time. Even if she _tried_ to rest her mind, it would find a way to think about all the things, all the possibilities. It wasn’t necessarily _un_ relaxing, but some of her friends chastised her for not allowing herself to just rest completely.

But before all that, she had an indefinitely-long pitstop that she’d been planning for months, among other things. And she also had someone who had promised to help her actually go through with all those plans.

He was waiting for her now, she suspected.

_Better not keep the man waiting too long._

Selphie adjusted the bag onto her other shoulder; the marble chocobo statue Nida had made her was a lot heavier than it looked, weighing at least half the weight of the bag. As she slowly made her way out towards the entrance gates, she thought about him. He too had made promises to her, most of them to be fulfilled once he finally resigned from Garden as well. There were still some things he wanted to do, missions he wanted to run by himself instead of always coming in second or less. He’d do great at them, but still, a big part of Selphie worried about him. He seemed so _fragile_ , even if he was as sturdy as the rest of them.

She thought about the time Seifer had first called Nida by his name. He honestly had looked about to cry, and it must have taken a lot of strength to keep those happy tears in.

The farther she walked away from Garden, the freer she felt, and she remembered that grey lump she used to have in her stomach. It had gone away completely months ago, and now its blue sister was just getting larger and larger with each step she took. One day it’d consume her and every part of her would be this glowing blue. That day sounded nice, and maybe she’d celebrate it with a party, even if no one knew what it meant except for three people.

Rinoa had found the concept interesting, likening it to something similar that she had felt during the war. Nida was just glad to know Selphie was doing okay. And Seifer, well, he didn’t really have much to say about it, but he seemed to understand.

As the gates came into view in the distance, she squinted her eyes for any sign of her quarry, but it was still too far to see. She quickened her pace a little, until she was almost skipping—the bag wouldn’t quite let her do something so rambunctious.

When she caught a flash of brown, she knew it was him. She waved an arm in the air and called out, “Seifer!”

He was leaning against one of the gates, arms folded, wearing his leather jacket, of course. At the sound of his name, he looked down from the sky and over his shoulder at her. Only when she got real close did he push away from the gate, give Garden a glance behind her, and then hold out a hand.

Selphie turned away a little. “I can carry it myself,” she said indignantly.

“I know you can. I don’t care. Hand it over,” he said, wiggling his fingers in impatience.

With a wrinkle of her nose, she slung it over to him and he easily put it over his shoulder. He made it look like it weighed as much as a dry leaf.

“You’re just trying to brag, aren’t you? Trying to rub it in!” Selphie said.

“Is that what I’m doing?” he asked carelessly as he turned towards the car he’d rented from Balamb.

She followed him. “Yeah, yeah, I’m tiny, you’re not. Big deal. It’s not like no one’s noticed.”

He just smirked.

“Or,” she said, suddenly thoughtful, “you’re trying to impress me.

Seifer rolled his eyes and unlocked the doors. He opened a door and carefully set her bag inside.

“Which is stupid,” Selphie continued, “and way too obvious to be impressive at all.”

He shut the door with a little extra force and then turned to her. “Or maybe I’m just trying not to be an asshole.”

Selphie put her hands behind her and smiled. “Well, you don’t have to carry my bag for me to know that, dummy; I already know. You don’t have to keep proving anything to me.”

Seifer’s eyes gazed at her intensely for a few more moments, then his expression softened. “I assume you want to open the door yourself, then?

“That is slightly preferable, yes,” she said, holding up her index finger and thumb to show just how “slightly.” Then she skipped around to the other side of the car and got in the passenger side. When Seifer got in the driver’s seat, Selphie leaned over the middle arm rest. “Any regrets yet?”

With a scoff, he just shut his door and started the engine.

Several minutes after they started driving, Balamb Garden growing smaller and smaller in the mirrors, Seifer asked, “Are _you_ having any regrets?”

Selphie stared back at Garden’s imposing structure and leaned her chin on her hand. “You know, I’ve had lots of time to think about it, but I’m sure I’m making the best choice, you know? Besides, I’m not the only one, and Garden’s not going to be the same Garden anymore.”

Again, it grew silent for about five more minutes. Then Selphie looked over at Seifer, noticed how intently he was watching the empty, straight road ahead. “Who knew I’d end up ditching Garden and moving in with you, huh? I swear I’m a good roomie.”

He let an amused puff of air out of his nose.

“Now we just need to wait for Nida and the dream team will be back together again,” she said.

“Selphie, the three of us only worked together for a week,” Seifer said with a shake of his head.

Selphie frowned. “Yeah? So what? We stopped Balamb Garden from blowing up, right? That’s dream team material right there. And then even if we weren’t _working_ , the three of us have spent a lot of time together. So, I think it’s a perfectly acceptable term.” She leaned her chin on her other hand, resting her elbow on the middle arm rest. “We’ll find something to work on together. We have plenty of time for that.”

“Only because you’ll be looking for it,” Seifer grumbled.

She punched his shoulder. “You bet I will be.” She looked at his profile and smiled. “And you’ll love it. We always gotta be doing something.”

He said nothing, but his mouth curled up in a small smile.

“It’ll be great,” Selphie said, looking forward now, too. “I’m excited for it. More than I’ve been about most things this past decade. So thanks, partner.”

“Don’t call me that,” Seifer complained.  
“All right, partner,” she said with a grin, pointing out. “Onward we go!”


	2. Monster Hunting, or Seifer's Attempt to Stop Selphie from Joining His Patrols

The house was only meant for one person, but Selphie had bought a fancy, silk room separator with chocobos on it. Seifer hated it, of course—he called it “obnoxious”—which made Selphie love it all the more. Of course, to get downstairs or use the bathroom, she had to walk through Seifer’s half of the room, but they managed to make it work out okay. The best part of the house was the railing from the upstairs bedrooms. She could shout down at Seifer as he was making breakfast or sitting quietly drinking some coffee.

He was mostly gone doing flower things and of course monster hunting things. Selphie found it hard to relax knowing he was out having fun kicking monster ass, but she had promised him a few weeks of doing nothing but resting. There was only so much time a book could grab her attention for, and her impatience wore thinner and thinner.

So one day—only a week after she had arrived at Winhill—she woke up early to join him. He came down for coffee, not even fully dressed, and there Selphie was, coffee ready, all dressed, with Strange Vision on the table. Boko ran past sleepy Seifer, barking and wagging his tail. He ran in circles around Selphie and then went over to his readied food bowl.

Seifer was less enthusiastic; he eyed her suspiciously. “You’re up early.” Of course, he knew she always woke up early, but she had also agreed for those few weeks of rest that she would get up a good amount of time after the sun had risen. The sun was only vaguely thinking about rising right then.

“I had a craving for coffee,” Selphie said.  _ And something else! _

He just narrowed his eyes some more and then poured himself a cup of the fresh coffee. When he sat down at the table, he noticed Strange Vision. “The hell is this?”

“My weapon,” Selphie said innocently, sitting across from him.

Seifer looked at the empty table in front of her. “Where’s your coffee?”   


“Already drank it. I made some more for you,” Selphie said with a smile.

“Weapons off the table,” Seifer said and took a long swig of coffee.

The smile vanished. “You put Hyperion on the table.”   


Only after he had swallowed and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand did Seifer answer. “I do, and this is obviously not Hyperion.”

Rolling her eyes, Selphie leaned over and swiped Strange Vision, resting it over her right shoulder. “All right, all right, tough guy. Sheesh.”

Seifer closed his eyes and inhaled his coffee. She’d never seen early morning Seifer before, and Selphie had to admit, it was super adorable. His hair, though short, was as unruly as it could get, and the ugly maroon t-shirt and plaid pants really were the best part of it all. And, of course, she couldn’t forget the annoyed gleam in his eyes at her disturbing his morning.

“So,” Seifer said, setting his coffee down finally and giving her an intense look, “you’re not coming.”

“Oh, come on, Seifer, I’m  _ dying _ here doing nothing. This is the most boring town I have ever seen in my life,” Selphie immediately moaned.

Seifer shook his head. “You’re supposed to be resting.”

“I’ll rest when I’m dead, okay? Please. The book I’m reading is terrible. It’s somehow even more bland than this town,” Selphie said. “Let me  _ do _ something.”

“It’s only been  _ one week _ ,” Seifer insisted, getting to his feet. He picked up his coffee and started back up the stairs.

Selphie put her nunchakus back on the table and followed him up. “One week too long. I’m good to go. Besides,” she said, leaning back against the railing as he set his coffee on a nightstand and began rifling through the drawers of his dressers for some clothes, “it’s not like you can  _ stop _ me. If I don’t join your patrol, there’s plenty of monsters elsewhere. I’ll just go kick  _ their _ asses.”

He pulled out a navy blue shirt, completely wrinkled; he had no idea how to properly fold shirts—neither did Selphie, so she could give him no pointers. “If it was anyone else, I wouldn’t fuckin’ care, but you made me promise to force you to rest, Selphie, and I don’t break my promises. I’m sure there’s plenty of stuff here to do if you go looking.”

“I have,” Selphie said. “Three times a day, every day.”

Seifer glanced between her and the shirt. Then after a shrug, he pulled off his maroon bed shirt and tossed it on the bed. The navy shirt was on before Selphie could really take in what had happened, unfortunately. The pants seemed to be different, though, because Seifer grabbed his pair from yesterday—he’d slung them over a chair—and headed to the bathroom. He closed the door, but still continued their conversation through the door.

“Something’s bound to show up,” he said.

“No way!” Selphie says. “I have zero faith. Joining your monster patrols early is obviously what was always meant to happen. Are you trying to say no to fate, Seifer?”

He scoffed and opened the door, new pants on. As he bundled the plaid pajama pants in a ball and threw them on the bed, he said, “Says the woman who hates the idea of fate.”   


“Well, I don’t  _ hate _ it, per say . . . It’s just so constricting,” Selphie said. She held up a finger. “But not in this case.”

Seifer gave her a scrutinizing look. “No.” He walked over to the chair, which also held his boots, and set them on the floor so he could sit down and lace them tightly onto his feet.

Selphie sat on the edge of his bed. “So, then, are you going to, like, force me not to? How ya gonna do that unless you follow me out in the monster wilds, huh?” she challenged.

He shook his head. “You’re fuckin’ unbelievable.”

“But you already knew that?” Selphie said, with a mock confused tone.

Laces tied, he stood and hovered over her. Instead of saying something chastising, though, he just grabbed his coffee and drank it, all the while still giving her a pseudo-glare from way up there. He finished the whole mug and set it back on the nightstand before heading to the bathroom to finish getting ready for the day.

Selphie moved to the door frame, leaning against the side as he brushed his teeth. “I can finish out the rest of my R&R in days off. How about two days off until you say okay? How about that? Then you’re not breaking your promise and I don’t have to go  _ too _ stir-crazy.”

He looked over her in disappointment, toothbrush sticking out of his mouth. Again, he looked a little adorable and Selphie couldn’t help but smile. He must have taken it for cheekiness, because he rolled his eyes and turned so he could spit out the toothpaste. When his mouth was clean, he said, “This is exactly what you said would happen. Trying to wiggle your way out of it.”

“It’s either that or physically restraining me from going after monsters,” Selphie said. “So I guess it’s up to you what you wanna do.”

Seifer combed his hair and then turned off the light, advancing towards her. She backed up with him so he could leave the bathroom. He picked up Hyperion from its place propped up against the wall in the corner of the room and then rested it back on his shoulder. “Fuckin’ Hyne, Selphie.”

“I’m confused. Is that your answer?” she said.

He chewed on his lip and then pointed Hyperion at her. “Four days a week.”

“Three!” she insisted.

They had a stare-off for a few moments, and then Seifer yielded, setting Hyperion back again. “Fine. Three days a week off.”

From downstairs, Boko began barking again, ready to get on the road. “Yeah, yeah, I’m coming,” Seifer said. He gave Selphie one last annoyed look and then headed down.

The three of them headed out into the cool dawn, weapons over their shoulders, Boko’s tail wagging a mile a minute. Selphie looked over at Seifer and smiled, and to her slight surprise, he looked over and gave a tiny smile too—rolling his eyes immediately after.

“Whoever gets the least amount buys the other one a drink,” Selphie said.

“Just one,” Seifer said firmly.

She laughed a little. “Don’t worry.  That’s one promise I intend on letting you keep without any hassle at all.”

“Good.”   


They walked for a few second in silence and then Selphie swerved a little to knock into him. He knocked right back and she laughed. “Right right,” she said. “Eyes on the road. I got it.”


	3. One of Those Drinks

Old piano jazz played in the background of the tavern. A man named Evrett had moved to Winhill recently who really knew how to play, and his music definitely got more of the townspeople into the tavern every night, Selphie and Seifer included. The music was upbeat and happy, and Selphie hadn’t really heard much of the genre over the years. And more people meant more smoking, so the atmosphere was perfect for her: chatty, filled with music, and smoky. After a monster patrol, Selphie and Seifer would take their now-usual seats at the end of the bar, and one of them would buy the drinks. The good thing was they both kept the other in check, making sure neither drank more than that one drink.

Today was Seifer’s turn to pay; Selphie had absolutely obliterated the all-time record, let alone Seifer’s kill count for the day. They usually ordered something to sip on, but today, Selphie was in the mood for shots, so Seifer ordered shots. They clinked their glasses together and slapped them down on the tables as they felt the burn of the alcohol all the way down their throat.

Selphie stretched out her arms in front of her and rested her cheek on the bar. “Monster patrols sure tire me out. I may have to sleep for a million years tonight.”

“Maybe I should go by myself tomorrow,” Seifer said, vaguely to himself.

Selphie sat up quickly. “Uh uh, mister. I’m going. You’re just not tired because you only got about two monsters today.”   


“Two? Really?” he asked sarcastically. “I thought it was at least three.”

She laughed and then waved the bartender over. When Seifer was about to speak, she put a hand up to his face as she said, “I’d like a tonic water with lime, please. Thanks, barkeep.”

Seifer grabbed her hand and moved it out of the way, looking somewhat surprised, though pleasantly so.

“Such little faith,” Selphie said. “I’ve been a good citizen about this drinking business the whole time.”

“Just makin’ sure,” he said carefully. The bartender set her drink down, and Seifer swiped it first, taking a sip. His face screwed up and he gave it back to her awaiting hand. “How the hell can you drink that?”

She put her lips over the straw and shrugged as she took a long sip. “I mean, it’s tonic water, but—”

“But normal water is not exciting enough for you,” Seifer said. He too waved the bartender over, ordering instead a cup of black coffee he received just a few seconds later.

Selphie chuckled. “Sure! I can roll with that.” She lifted her glass. “Toast?”

Seifer raised an eyebrow, but he lifted his coffee cup.

“To not only breaking records, but completely, fucking  _ demolishing  _ them!” She smacked her glass against his mug and then downed her whole drink in one go. “Whoo! Another one!  _ Hydrate me _ , barkeep.”

The bartender gave her a weak smile and got her another tonic water, this time with two limes. She left the drink be for now and instead picked up one of the limes to suck on it. The sourness spread through her mouth and she wrinkled her nose and quietly squealed through the lime. Still, she sucked on it until it was dry, and then she pinched the ends together and set it on the wooden counter.

Seifer shook his head and drunk some of his coffee.

“Soooo,” Selphie said, leaning an elbow on the bar and turning to Seifer. “Nida said he’s going to be coming down in the next few months to say hello. Maybe stay a weekend. Then he’s going back for who-knows-how-long.”

“He can stay in the hotel,” Seifer said.

“Our house  _ is _ tiny,” Selphie murmured in agreement.

“My house,” Seifer corrected.

Selphie frowned. “Excuse you,  _ our _ house. I live there, too.”  
“Start paying rent then,” Seifer said. “You have the money to fucking buy the place.” He drank some more coffee, taking little sips to combat the heat.

“Do you want me to?” Selphie asked, in all seriousness.

Some of his coffee dribbled out of his mouth and he started coughing. With a wild clink, he set his coffee in its saucer and then thumped on his chest. Selphie gave his back a few strong pats until he seemed to be getting his breathing back under control.

“Wow,” she said, putting her chin on two fists. “I didn’t think that was  _ that _ crazy of a suggestion. Especially since you just suggested it.”

“I didn’t  _ suggest _ it,” Seifer said.

“Well, still stands. I can buy it if you’re partial to it,” Selphie said. “We can alway sell it later.”

Seifer sighed and ran his hands through his hair before swiveling his body to face her. “Look, you know this whole living together thing is temporary right? We’re obviously not going to be roommates for the rest of our lives.”

Selphie chewed on the inside of her cheek and looked into her drink. “Well, yeah. Of course. But like, for now. I mean, it’s only been two months, so I figured we still had a lot of time ahead of us before things changed again.”

The past two months had been fun—once she’d stopped with her days off, that is. She and Seifer made a good team patrolling against monsters as well, just like she’d expected. And though oftentimes they rubbed against each other in opposing grains, sometimes that was fun. It added just the right amount of spark and interest for living in an otherwise dull town. Though, she was hoping that with more additions like the jazz piano man, the town would grow and become more livelier until it was a town Selphie was proud to call home.

For now, Winhill was Winhill, and only Seifer and the monsters were keeping her there. If anything, it was a good change of pace, hearkening back to the days in the training center between classes when she was off fighting monsters. At least here there was a slightly bigger variety.

“Hey,” Seifer said in a tone that suggested a subject change.

“Mmm?” she asked, not too keen on changing the subject. But she’d accept it for now. It had to come up again eventually.

“Let’s get outta here.”

Selphie leaned towards him a little, a shit-eating smile on her face. “Oh, yeah? You tired, old man? Is it your bedtime?”

“Cut it out,” Seifer said, hopping out of his seat and putting his jacket on.

“S’long as you’re a year older than me,” she said, slipping out of her stool, “I can make all the old man jokes I want. It’s an obligation of being friends.”

Seifer counted out some gil and tossed it on the table. “I don’t think that’s true.”

“Because you haven’t had the right friends,” Selphie said. It had come out before she’d had time to really think about it. And maybe his mind didn’t go to Fujin right away, but hers did, and she suddenly felt a little sick. But before she could get out some kind of apology, Seifer spoke:

“Yeah, yeah, whatever makes you feel better, Tilmitt.”

The bartender waved them goodbye, and Selphie gave the piano man a kiss on the head as she walked by, then quickly escaped before he could react. She did it every night, and after every time, she would catch Seifer smiling to himself. Of course, as soon as he knew she was looking, the smile would go away, but no matter: Selphie had seen. She was getting better and better at catching his sneaky smiles as the days went by.

“Keep gloating. Tomorrow you’ll be buying the drink,” Seifer said.

Selphie put her hands in her pockets. “Not if the past three days are any indication.”

“Even you gotta have some low days,” he said confidently.   
She elbowed him. “Whatever makes  _ you _ feel better, Almasy.”


	4. Harder Than It Looks, Even for Selphie Tilmitt

Evrett the Piano Man gave them a mini grand piano for New Year’s, though he was early by a few weeks. He knew neither of them played, but Selphie suspected he was hoping for her to be able to eventually play some duets with him, even if they were the super simple ones that kids played for concerts. Seifer complained they had no room, but Selphie just shoved it next to her bed in the last remaining space of her “bedroom.” And then she just played nonsense. She played for so long, Seifer eventually left the house to take Boko on a walk and probably spare his ears.

Her playing was no better by the time he got back, but Seifer managed to convince her to stop so she could do something important like eat. Her fingers played invisible keys on the wooden table as Seifer cooked some mediocre eggs on the stovetop. Usually she helped make the food, but she was too preoccupied with the elaborate piano symphonies she was composing in her head.

Only one thing managed to break her concentration: Nida was coming for the weekend, and they’d discovered the hotel was booked for the time Nida would be coming. So she spent time setting up a place for him on the couch downstairs as Seifer went to buy an extra blanket because Boko had destroyed the only spare they’d had.

They went to meet him just outside town where there was enough space for  _ Ragnarok  _ to land. It was windy and cold that day, the tiniest layer of frost covering the ground. It was still too early for the sun to melt it away. Selphie liked the sound of boots on the frost; it was one of her favorite things about Winhill in winter. They rarely got snow, the climate more partial to just getting  _ fucking freezing _ , but in early hours of the day, there was always the delight of frost.

Selphie hopped from foot to foot to keep moving and keep warm.

“Why don’t you just buy a better coat?” Seifer asked in a disinterested tone.

“Not unless I have to!” she said through chattering teeth. “You know, about the house thing, if we buy a bigger one, then we can have a guest room. I mean, everyone’s eventually going to visit, the hotel might always be full, and we can’t have  _ Rinoa _ or  _ Quistis _ sleeping on the couch!”

Seifer flinched. “Hell, as long as they don’t come all the time.”

“We haven’t even had one guest yet, Seifer! You can’t be tired of them already!” Selphie complained.

“I’m not—”

The roar of  _ Ragnarok’s _ engines drowned him out, and Selphie forgot the conversation anyway. She jumped up and down, waving her arms in the air. When he was close enough to see, she saw Nida waving from the cockpit.  _ Ragnarok _ set down with a light thud, and then the loading ramp began lowering. A few moments later, Nida appeared, dressed in a giant, fluffy winter coat—the same one he’d worn at Trabia since the moment they had started the Trabia Restoration Project all those years ago. The thing was sure old and tattered, but he didn’t seem to be chattering or trembling like her.

“Nida!” Selphie greeted.

Nida’s eyes widened, and Selphie knew it was because she had literally never given him such an enthusiastic greeting before in her life. No one probably had. He laughed nervously and waved. “Hey, Selphie!” His eyes squinted as he smiled. “Hey, Seifer!”

Seifer gave the tiniest of nods.

“I have to go get my luggage,” Nida said, jerking a thumb back towards the ship.

“How much luggage?” Seifer asked in a slightly dangerous tone, more than he’d meant to, Selphie thought. He was just so worried about space all the time.

_ Maybe I should just buy a new house and surprise him with it. Ha. Yeah! A birthday present? Oh, shit, that’s in a week!! _

Nida put his hands in front of him. “Oh, not much at all. Just a duffel bag. I always travel light, you know.”

“We just got a piano. I’ll play a song for you when we get back,” Selphie said.

“Wow, really?” Nida asked, again sounding genuinely shocked she would ever do something like that for him.

“Is  _ that _ what you call it?” Seifer asked with a snort.

Nida glanced between the two, gave another laugh, and then headed back into the ship to get his duffel.

“Now that  _ is _ you being an asshole,” Selphie said, folding her arms and giving Seifer a disapproving look.

“Oh?” Seifer rubbed the back of his neck. “Isn’t it a friend’s obligation to let you know when you’re doing something—”

Selphie held up a finger and gave him a dangerous look. “Uh uh, stop right there, mister.”

“It’s because I’m right, isn’t it?” he asked with a smirk.

Before Selphie could answer, Nida came back out, a bright green duffel bag over his shoulder. Selphie expected Seifer to take it from him, but as soon as Seifer saw Nida was ready, he turned back towards town and started back. She bit back a smile and motioned for Nida to follow them back to the house.

Nida looked at the town in wonder, but Selphie focused more on Seifer, skipping to his side until they were side-by-side. She punched his arm. “You know, I did pick up a couple of songs from Zell. It was years ago, so I probably don’t really remember it as well as I think I do . . . but, you know, I think I’ll give a try. No matter what I play, Nida’ll think it’s music from Hyne himself.”

Seifer glanced back at their guest. “He looks exactly like he did last time I saw him. Does that guy ever change?”

“Not . . . not really, now that I think about it,” Selphie said. She gave a giant shiver.

“For Hyne’s sake,” Seifer muttered and took off his coat. He put it around her.

Selphie tried to give it back, but he pushed her hands away. “You’re going to freeze,” she insisted. “The house is two feet away. I’ll be  _ fine _ .”

“Which is why I will also be fine without my coat for two more feet,” he said, then swung his head down to her dramatically and gave her a pointed look. “So wear the damn coat, Tilmitt.”

_ Maybe we should buy a house with a fireplace. Not many here have those anymore, do they . . . Hmm . . . Maybe I should just hire an architect? That guy in Esthar City I met a few times! He’s on the planning committee. Oh, what’s his name . . . Joka? Jaka? Jakuna? Naju? _

Someone grabbed her sleeve and jerked her to the right. When her mind came back, she noticed that that someone was Seifer, and she was currently nestled in his arms.

“Watch where you’re going,” Seifer said.

She looked over her shoulder at a lamppost. She blinked a few times then burst out into laughter. “You shoulda let me run into it.” She pushed away from him and started towards the house, hands behind her back. “I put that on my bucket list when I was six years old.”   


“It’s true,” Nida offered.

“Of  _ course _ you did.”

“Though, once is probably enough,” Selphie said. “So after I run into one, whenever that may be, please keep pulling me out of the way. It’s quite nice.”   


They bickered until they got back to the house, and then Boko was barking like mad, happy to see Nida though he couldn’t have remembered him. Selphie went straight upstairs to the piano, opening the tray and sitting down. After cracking her knuckles, she rested her hands on her lap.  _ All right. The first one started with . . .  _ She put her right fingers on the correct keys—to the best of her knowledge.  _ And then . . .  _ Her left hand moved to the right keys as well.  _ Yeah, that looks right _ .

Not right. When she played them together, she winced. They were supposed to be a beautiful chord, not sound like the dying shriek of a Mesmerize.

Selphie scratched her head.  _ Maybe my memory’s not as good as I thought _ .

The other two came up the stairs to listen—mostly Nida, who still looked excited despite the strangled cry Selphie had just played via piano. Seifer just looked like he had no other choice but to “hang” with them.

It was Selphie’s turn to laugh nervously as she turned towards them. “It’s harder than it looks, I guess. Evrett makes it look so easy! Even Zell, and he’s not even that great.”

“You’ve been playing for three days, Selphie,” Seifer said. “Without lessons.”

“Ha, well that’s true,” Selphie said. “I’ll have to play you a song next time, Nida. By then, I’ll  _ have _ to know something.”

“Sounds good,” Nida said happily.

Boko barked and stuck his head between Nida’s legs. His tongue lolled out the side of his mouth. Nida laughed and swung his leg over Boko so he could kneel down and pet him.

Selphie laughed and stretched out a hand to pet Boko’s back. She glanced up at Seifer, who a moment later glanced at her from the side of his eye, smiled, and shook his head the tiniest bit. Selphie looked back at Nida and Boko, warm feelings brewing in the pit of her stomach.

_ This is how it should always be. The four of us together. I really do think I’d like that a lot. _   
_ House it is! _


	5. The Inevitability of the Number Thirty

The number thirty had yet to grace Selphie; she was free for seven months. But today was the day before Seifer’s birthday, and it was the last real day of being under thirty. He had instructed her—though that might be too soft a word—no parties, and she had agreed. Anyway, she had spent time and money on her gift, so a party was out of the question. She could just make New Year’s even bigger without him knowing it was for  _ him _ . So on the 22nd, the day before Seifer turned thirty, Selphie told him she wanted to show him something after they got back from their monster patrol.

In the late morning, they walked towards the hillside, the steep cliff where the town had recently installed a new, more secure staircase. But they weren’t going quite as far as that. Eventually, she deviated from the main road onto a tiny side road between two fields of flowers—well, there’d be flowers in good weather. Seifer had Hyperion on his shoulders, and he was looking up at the sky as he walked. They hadn’t talked much since they started their patrol—outside battle banter—but she could tell he was burning to ask just where the hell they were going.

Someplace surrounded on all sides by fields that would flower most of the year.

Nida was already there, giving it his own special touch or something like that.

When the main road disappeared from view, Seifer glanced back and then lowered Hyperion. “Selphie, where the hell we goin’?”

She smiled and pointed to a tiny copse of trees next to an emerging structure. “Right there. Just wait. We’re almost there.”

Seifer gave her a suspicious look, but said no more until they had stopped in front of the structure a few minutes later. It was a nice-sized cottage, friendly and warm-colored. The windows were arched, with little flower beds at each one. The roof was golden, textured to look like it was thatched. It was surrounded by a fence and many criss-crossing, cobblestone pathways. One led into the copse of trees and the garden that lay within.

“So,” Selphie said, coming a stop and rounding on him. She folded her arms behind her back. “This is my birthday present to you. Flowers everywhere! As far as the eye can see! And Winhill there in the kind of distance—it’s easier to see now that we’re a little higher up.”

Seifer didn’t even look at the flowers, he just gave her an exasperated look. “You bought me flower fields for my birthday?”

“Yeah!” she said with a zealous smile. “Oh, and a house.”

“ _ What?”  _ Seifer took a few steps towards her until he was looming. Of course, that hadn’t worked on her in forever, but still, he must have thought one of these days it would work. “Didn’t I tell you  _ not _ to buy a house?” he sighed.

“Well, I couldn’t get the fields without the house; they’re a package deal. Anyway, that aside,” Selphie said, “I want to explain  _ why  _ I got you flowers.”   


Seifer shook his head in disbelief but he looked at her seriously. “Yeah? Why?”   


“If you remember, a year and a half ago, at my amazing birthday party at Edea and Cid’s house, you gave me a bouquet of flowers,” Selphie said.

An amused gleam appeared in his eye. “So you think  _ fields of flowers _ is equal to a tiny-ass bouquet of flowers? Selphie, I gave that to you because I didn’t know what the fuck else to get you. It was a lazy man’s gift.”

But she only laughed and linked her arm through one of his—to his slight surprise, but she pretended like she hadn’t noticed. “Even if it was, I thought it was adorable.”

Again, Seifer shook his head in disapproval. “And who’s going to tend to all these flowers, huh?”

“You and me, of course,” Selphie said. “And Nida’s going to stay in the place we’re at now.”

“He  _ will? _ ”

Selphie began to walk towards the cottage, and with her arm in Seifer’s, he was pulled along with her. “Yep. This place is a good deal bigger than that apartment in town. And it’s nice and quiet. And you don’t have to worry about rent or mortgage because I paid for it in full. Just property taxes, ya know?”   


At the door, Seifer stopped and Selphie almost rubber-banded back into him. “You paid for it in full? How much was it?”

“I’m not going to tell you,” she said with an expression he believed.

Seifer gave a sigh that sounded resigned, so Selphie took it as a victory and pulled on him again. She opened the front door and entered the wood-floored great room. She pointed to a wall with a brick hearth. “A chimney and a fireplace! I’ve always wanted one. You don’t know how impossible it was to find a place with one in Esthar City—like, an old-fashioned one—so I just stayed in the presidential palace. But now I got one all to myself.”   


The floorboards creaked and Nida joined them from the kitchen. “Just finished putting up the last of the decorations. Should feel really homely in here now. And there’s even a dog door for Boko.”

Seifer narrowed his eyes. “Wait. I thought you were only staying for the weekend, and then a week, and now you’re going to be living in my house?”

“Plans changed,” Nida said. “I’m still with Garden, but . . .” He waved a hand in the air and smiled. “Well, the details aren’t important. But Quistis knows and everything’s good. It’ll be nice. This seems like a very nice town. Lots to do.”

Both Seifer and Selphie gave him a look.  _ Lots to do? Of course Nida would say that. _ But Selphie shook the look away and smiled. “So, yeah, dream team together again.”

“You two have been planning this for months haven’t you?” Seifer accused, walking over to the hearth and picking up the marble chocobo statue Nida had made Selphie for her birthday.

“Nope. Less than a week,” Selphie said. “We concocted it the day Nida got here.”

Seifer set the statue down. “Less than a  _ week _ ? You two planned all of  _ this _ in less than a week. What about your fucking ship outside town?”

“Taken care of,” Nida said, clasping his hands in front of him.

Seifer rolled his eyes. “What the fuck ever . . . Selphie, you promised me you wouldn’t do anything for my birthday.”

Selphie held up a finger. “Nuh uh,” she said quickly, “I promised not to hold any parties. And I won’t. This is just my gift to you. You really think I could go a birthday without getting you something? Who do you think I am?”

“I’ll have to cover all my bases next time,” he muttered as Nida laughed.

“That’s assuming I’ll promise to all your demands,” Selphie said. She held out a hand to him. “Let me show you outside.”

Seifer looked away carelessly. “I just saw outside.”

Selphie rolled her eyes. “Real funny. Come on.” She wiggled her fingers, and at the movement, Seifer’s eyes flicked down to look at them. Gears seemed to be churning behind his cerulean eyes, and eventually he walked up to her, but he didn’t take her hand. Disappointed—but making sure he didn’t see it—she lowered her hand and then turned, pointing the way towards the back door.

First she gave him a tour of the garden, then she took him down the hill a little to the tool shed. It was small and musty, covered in millions of cobwebs, but if she knew Seifer, he’d make it look great in no time. “Now, I know it’s not a five-star shed like the one back at the orphanage—”

Seifer glanced at her out of the corner of his eye.

“ _ But _ , it’s bigger. There’s room for a lot of improvement,” she finished.

“Do you even know how to take care of plants?” Seifer asked, moving back outside.

“I’m sure it’s not too hard to learn,” she said, putting her hands behind her back. “And I’ll have you as a teacher. If Amma trusts you with her flowers, then I trust you with our flowers. And if we make them pretty enough, we could sell them to her, you know. Wholesale, or however all that selling business goes. I’ve never run a business.”

Seifer let out an amused puff of air. “Right. Well, when July rolls around, don’t expect me to buy you a fuckin’ house or anything.”

“Oh, it’s all right. I have zero expectations, so whatever you get or don’t get me will be great!” she said.

He winced and ran a hand through his hair.

“Anyway,” she said, taking a step closer. “I know it’s still a day off, but happy birthday, Seifer.”   


“Yeah, yeah, thanks,” he said and looked out over the fields. “It’s your money anyway. If you wanted to spend it on this . . . even if spending so much money on me seems a waste—”

“Stop,” Selphie said, punching him in the arm. “I’m not even going to say anything. You know how dumb what you just said was.” She again looped her arm through his and rested her head against his warm arm with a content smile. “That tiny place was driving me crazy anyway, and if I’m going to be living in this place, I need somewhere nice!”

Seifer opened his mouth to respond, but before Selphie could hear what it was, Nida called to them from the house: a summons for lunch.

“Hungry?” Selphie asked as her own stomach gurgled loudly.

“Am I never not hungry after patrol?” Seifer asked. “Can Nida even cook?”   
Selphie gave a mischievous smile. “I guess we’ll find out, huh?”


	6. The Most Exciting Thing the Town of Winhill Has Done So Far

News of Evrett the Piano Man could have spread, and maybe that was why so many people moved to Winhill that winter. With so many more people, Selphie and Seifer weren’t the only ones who could monster patrol. There were some old faces Selphie vaguely recognized, and a few she remembered fondly. They’d all been at Garden, Balamb or Trabia. They still had everything they’d learned, and where was a better place to use it than in Winhill where there seemingly  _ always _ plethoras of monsters to keep at bay.

And then there was the piano man. On New Year’s Eve, everyone squeezed into the tavern they’d have to expand one day. It was noisier than Selphie had ever heard it. And it wasn’t just talk: in one corner, some ex-SeeDs were having arm wrestling matches and people were betting. In another, they were having a heated debate about chocobo domestication—which Selphie joined herself for the span of three tonic waters, and then she had to relieve herself. There were several Triple Triad games going on, all leading up to the final battle between the two best players that night. And then of course, there was the group gathered around Evrett, all of them singing drunkenly or not along with his music, even to the pieces that _had_ _never_ had words—well, they did now.

It was the best party Selphie had been to since the end of the war. And though no one was there from the original gang, just Nida and Seifer, Selphie wouldn’t have had it any other way. She bounced from group to group, listening in, or laughing. Mostly she stayed at the Triple Triad tournament, watching Seifer play; he was so intent on his game that he looked about ready to murder someone if he lost. She’d never seen him play before, but if that night was any indication, he was really good.

_ Maybe I should get some cards myself. I gave them all away to Zell . . .  No way I’m getting those back. _

Nida preferred to sing along with the piano, and he had quite a lovely singing voice, the best of anyone there, probably.

“Care to join me?” Evrett asked when they finished another song—a repeat, everyone loved it so much.

“When you said a duet for New Year’s, I thought you were talking about  _ next _ New Year’s,” Selphie said with a wink. “I’ll be ready by then.”

“She just hits whatever keys now,” Nida supplied.

Evrett laughed. “Well, any requests, then?”

“‘Eyes On Me,’” Selphie said, throwing her arms on top of the piano and leaning into it.

“Excellent choice!” Evrett said. He cracked his knuckles and started.

The next five minutes were filled with sloppy, emotional, off-key singing by half the tavern. Selphie listened with a smile, swaying a little, occasionally closing her eyes. She had never heard a better rendition, and she almost knew there would never be a better one ever again.

At the end of the song, Selphie thanked Evrett and wandered back over to Seifer. He was folding his arms and smiling in prideful victory at his opponent. “I hope you didn’t waste him too badly,” Selphie said.

Seifer snorted and took one of the guy’s cards—one that had the guy crying out, “No, any card but that one!” Of course, Seifer just took more satisfaction in that, and he added it delicately to his deck of cards. He waved the guy off and then beckoned for someone else with a taunting wiggle of his fingers. “Who’s next?”

Selphie pulled up a chair to watch, but before the match could start, one of the bartenders fired off his gun—full of blanks—to get everyone’s attention. “Hey now, folks. Y’all are gonna miss the new year. It’s in two minutes. Who needs a refill?”

Immediately, patrons flocked over to hastily get some alcohol for the coming of midnight. Seifer and Selphie stayed where they were, both secure with their tonic waters—she’d gotten Seifer addicted to them, though he preferred his with lemon rather than lime.

“This might be the most exciting thing this Hynedamned town has ever done since I’ve been here,” Seifer said, taking his drink into his hands.

“I believe it!” Selphie said loudly in the din. “We might have to leave after it hits midnight.”

Seifer looked at her in confusion. “Why?”

Selphie twisted in her chair and pointed with her drink towards Nida who was leaning against the piano, still singing drunkenly to a song that wasn’t playing. “I think I might have to be the one who walks  _ him _ home. First time!”

“I can’t believe it,” Seifer said in disappointment as he looked at the wasted Nida, but he smiled a little nonetheless.

He tried to hide it, but Selphie knew, he was just as fond of Nida as she was. Strange how it had turned out that way, but it pleased her. They were the same age, but she still considered Nida almost like a son—though, she’d never tell  _ him _ that.

As the countdown approached, Selphie and Seifer lifted their drinks and stared at each other, hers excited and his vaguely humored. Then the ten seconds came. As everyone shouted the numbers, Selphie and Seifer mouthed them. And then everyone was screaming “Happy New Year!” and clinking glasses—shattering them, too. Selphie and Seifer clinked theirs, downed the rest of their drinks, and slapped them on the table.

They bid everyone farewell, each put an arm around Nida, and started home—their old place and Nida’s new place. They set him in his bed, took off his shoes, and tucked him in.

“He really almost is my son,” Selphie said as she looked down at him and his drooling face.

“What?” Seifer asked.

Selphie waved the question off and bent over to whisper gently, “Night, Nida.” In return, she got a sleepy, messy “Mhm night, Selphie,” or at least that’s what she thought he was trying to say.

Outside the apartment, Selphie and Seifer stopped and breathed in the chilly night air. Selphie looked at the stars and then gave Seifer a sidelong glance. “You know, we  _ could _ go back?”

“I think I’m getting old,” Seifer said. “Now that we left, I just wanna pass out.”

“You’re  _ thirty _ !”

“Says the woman who calls me ‘old man,’” He said, shaking his head and starting back to their new cabin on the hill.

“I mean it lovingly. As a friend, I’m also obligated,” Selphie said as she walked beside him down the quiet lane.

Seifer just rolled his eyes.

They walked on quietly, their muffled footsteps the only sound for a long while. Selphie watched the stars, smiling at the twinkling ones. It reminded her of the stars after the war when they had had the giant party. When things had shifted. It had been sad then, but with this new shift—she glanced at Seifer, who was looking straight ahead in boredom—the stars were good. Things were good. All of her friends were happy, living their lives how they wanted to. And there was no hesitation in any of Selphie’s steps.

Things made sense. Even if being Seifer’s roomie in Winhill had never entered her weirdest visions for the future. She was happy. And she liked to think Seifer was too.

When the cottage came into view, Selphie spoke. “Happy New Year, Seifer.”

He didn’t look at her, but she saw the corner of his mouth twitch before he said, “Happy New Year, Selphie.”

At the house, Boko went bonkers, jumping up and then running in circles. Seifer just crouched down, and when Boko had calmed down, he scratched him behind the ears and murmured something to him that Selphie couldn’t hear.

Selphie leaned against the wall a moment, just watching them, then bid Seifer goodnight and disappeared into her room. When the house had quieted and Selphie was lying in the dark, a long time away from falling asleep, she thought about the walk home.

They were comfortable in silence with each other. Her speaking, for once, had not been to break the silence and possible awkwardness, but simply because it had felt right to tell Seifer “Happy New Year” right at that moment. She had wanted him to know.

_ Know what, though? _

Something. Something in particular.

_ Why can’t I figure it out? _

She rolled onto her other side, facing the wall that separated their rooms.   
_ Maybe I’ll remember tomorrow. _


	7. Night on the Roof

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is where most of the angst is.

Seifer found Selphie lying in the field, eyes closed. She heard him walk up, but said nothing, instead continuing to enjoy the morning sun. Seifer nudged her with the toe of his boot. She grumbled an incoherent mess and heard him sigh.

“Day one of planting flowers for the new year and you’re already done? Hyne, why’d you buy all these flowers then, Selphie?” Seifer complained.

She opened one eye. “I’m just taking a break. Sshhhh.” She closed the eye.

“It’s been thirty minutes.”

A tiny smile appeared on her face. “I thought flowers and plants all went away and then came back!”

“We’re only replanting the annuals and older perennials,” Seifer said.

Selphie’s eyes opened and she sat up. “Oh ho ho, that’s fancy flower talk! You learn that from Amma?”

Seifer gave her a dry look. “It’s one of the most basic things, only beat by ‘plants need water and sunlight.’” He started walking away, but Selphie wouldn’t let him escape so easily.

“Right, right. Any other basic things I should know, Mr. Plant Lover?” she asked, hopping to her feet and walking alongside him.

“ _ You’re _ the one who bought the Hyne-damned flower fields, Tilmitt,” he insisted.

“And  _ you’re _ the one who gets a glow in his eye when you’re doing gardeny shit,” she insisted right back.

“Hyne, you’re insufferable,” he exclaimed.

They stopped walking and faced each other.

“Just leave the flowers to me, okay?” he said.

Selphie laughed and wagged a finger. “Ha! I’m not giving up that easily. Who do you think you’re talking to? Did you forget it was unforgettable me?”

Seifer put his hands on his hips. “It’s a big field,” he said.

“I can handle it,” she snapped back, waving her whole hand in the air now. “It’ll go 50% faster with me here.”

“Thirty!” he shot back.

Selphie’s face screwed up. “Thirty-five.”

They again stared at each other, Seifer with his narrowed eyes and folded arms, and Selphie with a challenging smile. Eventually, Seifer gave in and said, “Fine, thirty-five. But no breaks until you’ve actually planted some fucking bulbs and seeds.”

“All right, all right,” Selphie said, putting her hands up. “Teach me, Sir Flower.”

Seifer looked like he wanted to argue the name, but he just gave a dejected sigh and then motioned with a hand for her to continue following him. “Lady Sunshine.” That had her giggling the whole way.

Surprisingly, they managed to get a full quarter of the plants done that needed replanting by the time they took their break at noon. Selphie made lemonade while Seifer sizzled up some eggs and sausage. They sat at the table outside, Boko under it with his tail on Selphie’s feet and his snout on Seifer’s, fast asleep.

“Do you think we should re-subscribe to the local newspaper?” Selphie mused as she twirled her fork in the air, watching the grease fall from the sausage onto her plate.

The fork was halfway to Seifer’s mouth when he stopped and gave her a look that screamed “Are you fucking kidding me?” Instead, he calmly said, “Yeah, maybe when we’re eighty.”

“Ha, we gonna be roomies at eighty still?” she joked and then put the sausage in her mouth.

Seifer just shook his head and continued eating, but what had been a joke now took serious root in Selphie’s mind. Obviously, they wouldn’t still be roomies at eighty, but when exactly  _ would _ they finally go their separate ways? She watched Seifer eat, her lips pursed, eyes unsure. It had only been about half a year, them being in February, and Selphie had enjoyed every minute. Being with Seifer was both difficult and easy at the same time, but she wouldn’t have it any other way, because when it was difficult, it wasn’t a  _ bad _ difficult.

“Tilmitt, stop watching me. You’re freaking me out,” Seifer muttered on the other side of the table.

“Huh? Oh, ha, sorry.” She gazed down at her expertly-cooked food, moving another sausage link around on her plate.

There was the clink of silverware on Seifer’s plate and then he asked, “What?”

She looked up sharply, noticed he had stopped eating and was giving her an intense look. “Huh?” she said again.

“What’s wrong?” he asked bluntly.

“Oh, nothing’s wrong. Today’s a good day,” she said, and it was no lie at all.

Seifer glanced down. “If the food sucks, just tell me.”

“What—” She shut her mouth. “No, the food is . . .” Her eyes and voice softened. “The food is great.”

He gave her a wary look.

Selphie stuffed the rest of the eggs and sausage into her mouth at once and gave him a thumbs up. Through a full mouth, she said, “See?”

“Hyne,” Seifer muttered. “Drink some water before you choke to death.”

They went back to the fields shortly after and finished another quarter before calling it a day. Selphie went straight to the main room and took a three hour nap on the couch. She woke up with a blanket draped over her. It was dark out and both Boko and Seifer weren’t inside. Keeping the blanket wrapped around her body, Selphie wandered outside and called for Boko. He barked from the front of the house and she found him on the porch, right under the legs of Seifer, who was sitting on the roof. She climbed the ladder he had propped up against the side of the house and took a seat next to him.

“Thanks for the blanket,” she said.

Seifer gave her the tiniest of glances. “It wasn’t me, it was Boko.”

Selphie rolled her eyes, but said nothing. She swung her legs back and forth and gazed at the stars, thinking of all the nights she had done something similar at Trabia. Back then, she’d had Luna and Mira on her side. It was sad to think now she’d never have either on her side. Despite the waves Sanctus had made, gaining partially what it had wanted, Mira was still in prison. So was Raijin. And though Selphie had no personal part in his actions, she still felt the full ferocity of the blame for putting him there.

She’d never talked to Seifer about Fujin and Raijin, and he’d never even mentioned them. Enough time had passed that it should have been okay to talk about it. It would never be painless, of course, but eventually, putting it off too long would have no effect. It would be so far behind that it wouldn’t mean anything to their relationship, and Selphie didn’t want that. She wanted to stay Seifer’s good friend, she wanted to have with him what no one else had. It was a selfish thing to think, to want, but after so many years of doing hardly anything for herself, for not really wanting anything for herself, she thought maybe she deserved at least this one selfish thing.

Maybe right then wasn’t the best moment, but the night was quiet, and they were sober and calm. Most of all, it was pressing against her chest harder the more she thought about it.

Seifer hated “talking.” She knew that from the start, and especially after the orphanage when they worked together to hunt down Sanctus. At least this time she wouldn’t be crying. She’d gotten most of that out of the way; she was better now. They both were. So this “talk” would be different in all the best ways.

Selphie hugged the blanket tighter around her. “Seifer?”

He tilted his head towards her ever so slightly.

“About Fujin . . .” 

Now that she was actually saying it, the words were doing their best to stay inside. Selphie had to pry them from her mind, force them into the air. She saw Seifer tense in the corner of her eye, but he said nothing to stop her from continuing her line of thought. “Maybe it’s too late to say that I’m sorry. And maybe I shouldn’t have to, because I did . . . what I had to. And yet, knowing that doesn’t make it any better. I may have saved Garden, but I hurt you. There was nothing I could have done in that moment to save both Garden and stop anything from hurting you. I hate that. I hate that I was forced to . . .” She sighed a little angrily. “Not  _ sacrifice _ one of you, but . . .”

_ Do you know what I mean? Does any of this make sense? Or do you just wish I would stop? _

Selphie looked over at him so she would no longer have to rely on her peripherals. The man was still tense, most of the tension held in his face. He was glaring out at the darkness, mouth twisted in a pained frown.

She continued in a quiet voice. “I couldn’t see you for awhile after it happened. I don’t know how you could come and see me before you left. I mean, I’m glad you did. If you hadn’t lent me the jacket . . . I honestly might not have gone back to Winhill.”

Seifer’s glaring eyes shifted downwards to where Boko was running in circles chasing firebugs. The glare softened a little, but that frown was still there.

Selphie’s grip on the blanket faltered just enough for it to slip down over her shoulders and pool around her hips. She made no attempt to bring it back up. Her trembling wasn’t a shiver from the cold. 

“I . . .” She made another angry sound as the words failed, and her fist came up near her chest. “I want to know that you forgive me!” she half-shouted. “Because I can’t . . . I’ve tried to forgive myself but I can’t . . . Not until I know that . . . that what I did . . .” She stopped and this time let the words stay trapped in her mind. She’d said enough—at least, what she had really wanted to say.

After a moment of silence, Selphie forced herself to look over at Seifer. He still wasn’t looking at her, and as frustrating as it was, she let it be. He needed to deal with her words in the way that was best for him.

Asking his forgiveness wasn’t one of her silly jokes this time. She had been scared to ask, and now after she finally had, she was even more terrified because now he was there to actually  _ answer _ .

Eventually, he did speak, his eyes still following Boko. His voice was more matter-of-fact than the nervousness or anger she was expecting. “It wasn’t you I had to forgive. You did something for me back there that I dunno if I can ever repay. If you hadn’t, you wouldn’t be here right now. Neither of us would be.”

Selphie flinched, but her terror was gone, wiped away with his words. Instead, she was almost baffled that he hadn’t even thought of it as something he had to forgive her for. Though he hadn’t said who it was he  _ did _ have to forgive, Selphie suspected he was talking about Fujin.

And he had seen Selphie’s action as,  _ What . . . ? Something that he can never _ repay _? Why? Because he didn’t have to stop Fujin himself?  _ Her lips rounded.  _ If he had killed Fujin instead of me, where would he be now? _

_ I don’t want to think about it. Seifer’s here now. So am I. Everything turned out . . . Everything turned out okay, didn’t it? Yeah. _

“You made the right choice,” Seifer said. “And Fujin and Raijin made their own, right or wrong.”

_ Just like you did when you left with Edea that day in Timber. _

At least Raijin had made it out alive. Though he still had nine more years on his sentence, stuck in the D-District prison, he was alive. And after he was out, he could make another life for himself. He would be free of his attachment to Fujin and Seifer completely. There was something exciting and terrifying about that newfound freedom, and Selphie almost envied it.

Still, he was unwillingly put in that position because of Selphie and Seifer—and of course from his own choice, but she and Seifer had directly put him there.

“I didn’t expect to see you again,” Seifer admitted, pulling Selphie from her thoughts. His eyes were almost wistful now, but the frown was gone. He finally looked over at her and the look in his eyes was entirely disarming—Selphie almost leaned away. “I’m glad I was wrong.”

Selphie’s cheeks warmed, and the blue lump in her stomach squirmed joyfully. “Oh. That’s nice.”

Seifer shook his head a little and looked away again much to her disappointment. “Look, Tilmitt, I’ve put up with your shit for months now, but we gotta get something clear.”

The blump lump stopped squirming in alarm. “What?”

“Sometimes you go too far. You need to think things through. At this point, I’m glad you bought the house, okay, but . . .” He sighed. “You need to  _ consult  _ me. You don’t live by yourself.”

_ Oh.  _ She brought her shoulders in.  _ Well, he’s right. _

“Right. No more shenanigans,” Selphie promised.

Again, Seifer sighed. “No, that’s not what I meant.” He put out a gesturing hand. “Just consult me before you go through with some of them. You’ll know which ones; you’re smart.”

Selphie chuckled a little. “I guess I have a little too much fun. But it’s my last few months being twenty-something. Maybe I’m trying to get it all out before thirty hits.”

“Hey,” Seifer complained, “thirty doesn’t mean you’re  _ dead _ .”

She bit her lip to keep back another laugh. “Okay, okay, you’re right. It means I’ll be  _ almost _ dead.” Seifer’s smile had the blue lump in her stomach squirming again and she smiled out at the stars herself. “I’ll talk to you. Consult with you. We should make decisions together.”

The blanket seemed to magically move up over her shoulders again, until she turned just as Seifer was retracting his hand. She pulled the blanket tight like it was when she first got on the roof. “Thanks,” she said. “I assume Boko told you to do that.”

“He did.”

“Ha. Right.” She vigorously swung her legs some more then stopped them abruptly. “So, keeping my promise here, do you mind if lay my head on your shoulder?”

Seifer tried to give her an annoyed look, but it fell away almost instantly when he met her eyes. Then he just rolled his. “Fine.”

Selphie scooted over and lay her head against his arm. A moment later, his arm moved away and she was about to complain, but then he put the arm around her. Her cheeks grew even warmer this time, but luckily he wasn’t looking at her. So she just smiled to herself in surprise and looked out at the stars.

_ Huh. _


	8. Selphie Has Some New Feelings. Like Feelings Feelings.

Holding on to the side of the doorway, one foot popped in the air and one hand waving, Selphie called out, “See you tomorrow!” When Evrett waved back and turned away, she closed the door softly and then traveled back over to their mini grand piano, her fingers twitching and itching to play some more even after the 90 minutes they had already been dancing.

There was a noise from the kitchen, the sound of clunking boots, and then Seifer appeared, sweaty and dirty from working in the fields. He glanced at the front door, then at Selphie, and wiped some sweat off his forehead with a forearm. “Your lesson done?”

Selphie put her hands behind her back. “Mhm.”

“Thank Hyne,” Seifer said and traveled back to the kitchen. “I can’t handle listening to that same fuckin’ song fifty times in a row anymore.”

Selphie snorted and followed after him to make herself some lunch. “I’m much better than I used to be. Evrett said I’m doing well for only three months.” She opened the fridge and pulled out some leftover roasted chicken from the night before.

Seifer lifted a glass of water to his lips, but paused right before he took a drink. “Well, that’s true, I suppose.”

“You _suppose_?” Selphie waved him off. “You’re just being an ass because you can.” She pulled out a fresh loaf of bread and slapped it down on the table. “Hungry? You haven’t eaten since early this morning, have you? And you’ve been out all day. You took breaks, didn’t you?” She pulled out their biggest bread knife.

Seifer finished the glass of water and breathed out in relief. “Uh, yeah. ‘Course I did.”

Selphie gave him a dry look. “You better have. You’re not eighteen anymore.”

“Yeah, thanks for reminding me all the time,” Seifer said grumpily.

She avoided his gaze and instead focused on cutting some slices of bread. “I just don’t want you to overexert yourself . . . or just plain hurt yourself. That’s all.” She jammed the knife down and ended up squishing half the loaf rather than slicing cleanly.

Seifer rested his hand on hers. “Let me do that before you destroy the bread.”

“I can cut bread just fine,” she insisted. And then she looked up at him, trying to muster a glare. When she met his eyes, though, the glare vanished and she honestly had no idea what expression must have been on her face. As they were still staring at each other, Seifer’s fingers danced around hers and took control of the knife. Then he cleared his throat and she stepped back.

They made a couple of sandwiches and ate them in silence, Seifer sitting at the table and Selphie standing at the counter. When she was done, she moved to put her dish in the sink, and her eye caught a glance at the fields outside. Many of their flowers were in bloom and the fields were a myriad of different colors, all of them bright and brilliantly catching the noon sun.

Eventually, Seifer came over to put his plate in the sink. He cleared his throat when she didn't move, and she looked over in surprise, a smile still on her face. “The flowers are really turning out nice, aren’t they?”

Seifer shrugged.

Rolling her eyes, Selphie swiped the plate from his hands and put it in the sink. Then she looked back out the window, her eyes alight. “It’s just as beautiful as Garden, but in an entirely different way. They should grow acres and acres of flowers around Garden. It’d be fitting, wouldn’t it? There’s not nearly enough flowers for a place called _Garden_.”

She glanced over at Seifer, but he was too busy looking out the window to notice or answer her. His lips were slightly parted, his eyes focused, but without the tenseness in his face that usually came with it. Selphie wondered if he was picturing it, fields of flowers around Garden as far as the eye could see, even bigger than the flower meadow by the orphanage. And with his damp hair and slightly dirty face, Selphie found him utterly _adorable_.

When she giggled, _that_ got his attention. The innocent expression on Seifer’s face morphed into its usual tensed and frowning one. “What?”

She shook her head a little and said, “I’m going to go practice.”

“You just had an entire lesson, and then you were practicing before he came over,” Seifer said. “Why don’t you give _yourself_ a break?”

Selphie groaned and tried to reason with, “I just took a break to eat lunch.”

“Yeah, for ten minutes,” Seifer said. “You can’t complain to me about not taking real breaks if you’re not doing it yourself.”

“Piano and gardening are entirely different,” she said, putting her hands on her hips.

Seifer sighed. “Look, all that shit we figured out while we were up against Sanctus, you not remember that anymore? You overwork yourself, Selphie, and just because it’s a fucking piano doesn’t mean that it’s different. Do things in moderation sometimes, for Hyne’s sake. Do we need to bring Nida over to explain it to you again?”

He was right, but he was also wrong. Of course Selphie hadn’t forgotten that entire decade of nonstop work. And she had swore to herself never to go back to that version of herself. Honestly, she couldn’t if she tried because back then she’d been constantly haunted by the war. But things were different now. Instead of being afraid and running from the fear, she was _excited_ and wanted to run _to_ the things that made her happy.

Selphie leaned back against the counter. “I know what you’re saying, but it’s different this time.”

Seifer said nothing, but his folding arms and raised eyebrow were a nudge to continue.

Her shoulders came up. “I’m doing things that make me happy. I’m not doing things because I want to push the fear away. I know I have a problem when it comes to overworking, but if it’s doing something that honestly makes me happy, then . . .” A small puff of air escaped her nose and she looked over at Seifer. “Then I don’t know. I guess I really didn’t know where that sentence was going.”

Still, Seifer said nothing, but he looked thoughtful.

Selphie pushed away from the counter. “I’m happier here than I’ve been anywhere else. There’s no expectations from above or around me, no shackles pinning me down to one particular place, and no fear that I’m somehow going to fail. There’s just me, Boko, Nida, this house, the flowers, and you.”

He must not have expected her to say that, because his eyes grew round and moved back the tiniest bit. Of course, it was Seifer, so he recovered quickly. He clenched his jaw a moment, and then nodded. “That . . . makes sense.”

“ _But_ ,” she said, before he could run off--if he was even thinking of it, “I’ll give myself breaks, as long as you do, too.”

Seifer considered her a moment and then his arms came down to his sides. “Fine.”

“So let’s take the rest of the day off!” she suggested.

Wearily, Seifer said, “How did you jump from no breaks to taking the whole day off?”

Selphie just beamed at him. “There’s no reason not to.”

Seifer gave her a tired but soft and amused look. “All right, all right. What are we gonna do then, huh? It’s your idea, so you come up with the plan.”

“Wait, really?” Selphie asked, mouth agape.

And just like that he looked mildly annoyed. “What?”

Selphie put her knuckles up to her lips and laughed. “Usually my ideas are too, er, boisterous for you.”

“Yeah, well, I trust you to do something that’s not too crazy today,” he said.

She saluted. “I’ll do my best!”

Seifer reached out and took her hand, breaking the salute. “Please, I’ve had enough salutes to last me a fuckin’ lifetime.”

“What was that you said?” Selphie said, eyes wide in surprise and mischief.

“Huh?”

“Did you just say _please_?”

“No.” His grip on her hand tightened.

Selphie laughed and she started swinging their hands. “Uh oh, you can’t hide from this now, Seifer. You said it. I heard it. It’s been sealed to my memory. Now I know what it sounds like in Seifer Almasy’s voice. If I tell Rinoa and Quistis, they’ll be _super_ jealous. I can’t believe I had the personal honor to hear it straight from the man himself.”

“Hyne, Selphie, it’s just a word,” Seifer said.

“That I’ve _never_ heard you say before,” she said. “So since you asked so _politely_ , yes, I won’t salute anymore.”

Seifer rolled his eyes and looked away. “So what’s the plan?”

“Let’s go lie in the field and look at the clouds,” Selphie said instantly, the idea forming as her mouth spoke the words.

He opened his mouth as if to protest, but then closed it, considered the proposal, and said, “I know a good spot, I guess.” And then as if he had just realized he was still holding her hand, he let go abruptly, just stood there a moment, and headed out.

It took Selphie a few seconds to follow, and when she did, she was clutching her hand to her chest, the one that Seifer had been holding for so long. Maybe in the history of people holding hands it hadn’t been too long at all, but for Selphie and Seifer, it was the world record. Before then, Selphie hadn’t really thought about it all that much, but now, as she watched Seifer’s figure several yards in front of her, it was the only thing on her mind. It had felt nice, him holding her hand.

_Really nice._

_Too nice?_

They settled down on a patch of red and orange flowers, Seifer with his hands behind his head as a pillow. Selphie kept one of her hands free on her stomach, in the case of future pointing and maybe even some more hand-holding, though she knew the latter was too much to hope for.

_Funny I’m hoping it at all. What’s up with you today, Selphie?_

At first, Seifer’s face was focused and frowning, but as the seconds ticked by, it relaxed until he honestly looked like he was enjoying himself. At that point, Selphie looked over and asked, “See any cool clouds?”

“Wha--” he said softly in surprise and then looked at her as well, some hair falling in front of his face that Selphie desperately wanted to gently push out of his eyes. “No, I was just . . .”

She smiled. “Zoning out?”

Seifer gave a tiny shrug and looked back at the sky. A small smile appeared on his face.

Selphie’s heart lurched as she watched his smiling profile, and she quickly looked at the clouds again herself.

_Am I . . ._

She thought back to the time during the war, maybe back in Fisherman’s Horizon, when a strange feeling had overcome her body. _Strange, but good. Irvine was there._

_It’s similar, but . . . but what?_

The fingers on her stomach began twitching. It was random at first, but then it turned into the song that Seifer hated so much because he had heard it so many times.

_Hyne, don’t tell me._

Selphie risked a glance over at Seifer. The smile had disappeared, but he had such a gentle look on his face. Her heart lurched and her eyes snapped back to the clouds.

_But it’s_ Seifer _. That’s impossible!_

Seifer lifted a lazy finger in the air. “That one looks like Squall’s dreams and aspirations. Oh wait, no that’s empty sky.” He chuckled to himself.

“Seifer!” Selphie punched him in the arm, but that just made him laugh more.

“Joking, joking. Sheesh, Tilmitt,” Seifer said.

Selphie rolled onto her side and faced him, hearing his laugh fade away, but watching it remain on his face as he continued looking over every cloud in the sky. In the sunlight, his eyes really were an outrageous shade of blue. There might have even been literal sparkles in them, but of course that was absurd. Of course his eyes didn’t have sparkles in them. And yet--

“That one looks like Boko,” Seifer said seriously, and Selphie eventually twisted her neck to see.

“Boko’s just a ball of fluff, how can you tell?” she asked.

“Exactly.”

Selphie smiled and then rested on her back again. She pointed to a cloud creeping up on them from the west. “That one looks like a Belhelmel.”

Seifer looked thoughtful as he eyed it. “I can see that.”

Her hand came back down onto her stomach and she studied Seifer’s profile again.

_Yep. Damn you, Seifer._


	9. Everyone Visits at Once

When Selphie had sent out invites to everyone from the orphanage gang, she of course had expected each of them to show up eventually, but each in their own time. So when they all showed up on her doorstep at once, Selphie almost keeled over from shock and happiness both. Rinoa had her in a warm embrace before that could happen, and then Selphie was bouncing from one friend to the next, ending with a hug from Irvine. Boko came running from the kitchen and almost unbalanced Selphie when he went under her legs and barked happily at the visiting party.

She let them all in and everyone but Irvine took to admiring the house. He gave her an extra hug, longer this time and then took off his hat, holding it in front of his chest with two hands. “This is a mighty fine place you got here, Sephy.”

“Thanks. I do have good taste,” Selphie said, clasping her hands behind her back.

“Are you doing okay?” he asked, his eyes half-serious.

Selphie nodded and licked her lips. “Yeah. I thought it’d be harder to be severed from Garden but . . . this life really agrees with me. I’m still planning on leaving, going to Esthar, but for now . . .” She shrugged.

Irvine’s eyes flicked to the kitchen doorway and then the hallway. “Is Seifer here?”

“He’s cleaning Hyperion,” Selphie said and cringed. “He doesn’t know anyone’s here. It can get real quiet way in the garden, and he gets so  _ focused _ .”

“That he can,” Irvine said, a strange glow in his eye.

“Well, sit down, sit down!” Selphie exclaimed. “I’ll get coffee for everyone!” She started walking backwards towards the kitchen, her eyes on Irvine, trying to decipher that look in his eyes, but to no avail.

In the kitchen, she hurriedly prepared a full pot of coffee. As she stood at the counter, waiting for it to brew, the back door opened and Seifer came in, a newly-cleaned Hyperion on his shoulder. The moment his foot passed the threshold, his face twisted into slight fear and confusion at the sounds of visitors in the main room. He set Hyperion on the table, quickly glanced at Selphie, and then set it against the wall by the door for the time being.

“Who’s here?” he asked, keeping away from the doorway that led to the orphanage gang.

Selphie chuckled nervously. “You know how I sent out invites to everyone?”

The fear changed to hopelessness and Seifer, rather than looking annoyed or angry, just looked tired all of a sudden. “They’re all here?”

She brought her shoulders, scrunched up her face, and nodded. “Yeah . . .” she said out in a drawn-out way. Before he could say anything, she jumped to action, a hand resting on his arm. “You don’t have to spend any time with us at all. We can all go into town.”

He seemed to consider it at least a small moment; she could see it in his eyes. But ultimately he said, “Not like I haven’t seen them since the war.”

Meeting them again for the first time since the war seemed like it would be the most difficult part of Seifer’s relationship with them all, but Selphie had been there with Seifer for each and every one of those meetings, and now she knew that wasn’t the case. The first meetings had been hard and awkward, but it was all the times after that were the hardest. Seifer had to decide if he wanted to spend time with everyone again, get to know them like he did at the orphanage and Garden before the war, or keep more than a respectable distance.

Selphie said nothing, just waited for Seifer to come to his own decision. The coffee still had a long ways to go to brew.

In the middle of their silence, the floor creaked and Quistis appeared in the doorway. She took in Seifer without a fraction of surprise, merely nodding in greeting , and said, “It’s a lovely home you have here, Selphie. Is there anything I can do to help?”

“It’s all on the coffee machine right now,” Selphie said with a smile.

Quistis nodded again and then came farther into the kitchen. She took the whole room in quickly. “It’s quite charming. Perfect, in a way.”

“It is,” Selphie agreed wholeheartedly. “How long are all of you staying?”

“For myself, I’m heading back to Garden at the end of the day,” Quistis said. “I believe everyone else is staying the night in town, but I’m not quite sure. After being here they might decide to stay longer, especially Rinoa.” She hummed a laugh to herself, like there’s a joke in there. But rather than comment on it, she looks over at Seifer. “Hello, Seifer,” she said formally this time.

Seifer regarded her carefully and then said, “Quistis. How’s Garden these days?”

“As well as it can be,” Quistis said. “What about you?”

“Can’t complain,” Seifer said.

Selphie laughed without meaning to and Seifer cast her a dry look. Quistis looked curious, but rather than feed into it, Selphie just turned out and stared at the coffee machine, as if that could make it brew faster.

The awkward silence was saved by Zell, who popped his head in and said, “Selphie, Boko kind of pooped on the floor.”

“I’ll take care of it,” Seifer volunteered, perhaps without thinking about how many familiar faces were in that room. “When he’s real excited he shits,” he added as he grabbed a bag from a kitchen drawer.

Zell stared at Seifer. “Right, right, I remember . . .” He cleared his throat. “Seifer.”

“Zell,” Seifer said and pushed past him into the other room.

Zell slid more completely into the room. “Did he just call me Zell?”   
  


Quistis folded her arms and leaned back. “I think he did.”

The two of them helped her bring out the mugs, cream, and sugar and they carried everything out into the other room. Seifer was crouching in front of Rinoa and staring at her pregnant belly like he was trying to solve a difficult puzzle while Squall sat by, looking like he was unsure how to feel. Then Rinoa grabbed Seifer’s hand and pressed it to her belly. Both men physically flinched, but then Seifer’s expression gentled and he kept his hand on Rinoa’s belly of his own volition.

“Baby just starting kicking a few days ago,” Rinoa told Selphie.

Selphie set the coffee pot down and came kneeling down beside Seifer. “You didn’t tell me!” she breathed out in excitement.

Seifer lowered his hand and nudged Selphie’s. She looked at him in confusion, so he took her hand and placed it on Rinoa’s belly. “Oh!” she chuckled, too overcome with excitement to fully process everything. She moved her hand a little to follow a tiny movement and then the baby kicked right into her hand. With a squeal of excitement, she pulled her hand back and immediately put it back on again. When the baby kicked again, Selphie laughed.

“He’s got as much energy as Ifrit,” she joked.

“Don’t I know it!” Rinoa laughed and leaned her head on Squall’s shoulder.

“There’s coffee,” Quistis informed everyone.

As the visitors, sans Rinoa, got coffee for themselves, Selphie looked over at Seifer, who was still entranced with Rinoa’s stomach. “Can you believe after almost thirty years that that’s the first time I’ve felt a kicking baby?” she said.

Seifer tore his eyes away. “Me, too,” he said, his voice still holding wonder. Then, as if he realized where he was and that he still had a bag full of dog poop next to him, he got to his feet, mumbled something, and then left the room.

Selphie looked after him with a soft smile and then returned her attention to Rinoa’s belly. The sorceress was smiling at her and Selphie suddenly became self-conscious. “What?”

“I thought I was just seeing things in our chats together,” Rinoa said, “but now I know I definitely wasn’t.”

“What’s true?” Selphie asked.

Squall came and sat down beside them again, a small cup of coffee in his hands. At almost the same time, the door opened and Nida came in, all smiles and waves as he greeted everyone and also got himself a cup of coffee.

“Oh, that smells so good,” Rinoa groaned into Squall’s shoulder.

Rinoa’s remarks disappeared for the time being, and Selphie jumped to her feet. “Hyne, I forgot you’re avoiding coffee. Would you like some lemonade?”

“Mm, yes!” Rinoa said, and turned her face to smile at Selphie. “Thanks, Sephy.”

Seifer was in the kitchen, already drinking some lemonade himself, and the last of it by the looks of the empty pitcher. Selphie was somewhat relieved. Making new lemonade gave her a chance to collect herself again before going out there and really interacting with the others, deciding what they would all do for the rest of the day before Quistis had to leave and the others to the hotel to sleep.

“I’ve gotten nothing else planned for today,” Seifer said as Selphie started juicing the first lemon.

“So you’ll spend time with all of us?” Selphie prompted hopefully.

Seifer shrugged.

Selphie smiled down at the lemon. “Glad to hear it.”

“But we’re going to the bar tonight,” he added.

With a small laugh, Selphie said, “Of course.”

Nida came into the kitchen, beaming. “Hey, Seifer, Selphie.”

“Nida--” Seifer chugged the rest of his lemonade. “--we’re going to the bar tonight. After everyone leaves.”

“I’ll be there!” Nida said, eyes round at the direct invitation. Usually Selphie was the one to invite Nida to things. Of course, no invitation was truly necessary between the three of them. It was known that each of them was always invited to join in on whatever adventure or activity the others had planned. But Selphie knew Nida was still a little hesitant to accept that truly did include him, so she continued to invite him to things.

Getting an invitation like this from Seifer must have been earth shattering. In fact, Nida sat down at the table, as if to keep steady. He took a large swig of coffee, then a second later finished the whole thing in one, long guzzle. “Did you know they’d all be visiting at once?” he asked Selphie.

“Nida, please,” Selphie said as she started on the second lemon, “do I look prepared to you?”

“Well, no,” Nida admitted. “Do you need help?”   


Without hesitation, Selphie slid the juicer over to Nida. “One pitcher of fresh lemonade. Thanks, Nida.”

He pulled up his sleeves. “You know, Matron really taught me to make the best lemonade. I got this.”

“I have no doubt,” Selphie said and swapped an amused glance with Seifer. She patted Nida on the back. “I’ll let the lady know you’re on it. Come on, Seifer.” She extended a hand to him without thinking, and when she felt him take it her heart nearly jumped up into her throat. Remaining as calm and collected as she could, and without looking at him, she pulled the both of them into the main room.

Their hands came apart when in view of the others, but Selphie didn’t mind. They sat next to each other, beside Squall and Rinoa--with Selphie obviously next to Squall. But then Rinoa switched places so she could cuddle with Selphie. The two of them leaned into each other and linked their arms together.

“Nida’s making more lemonade,” Selphie said. She sighed and squeezed Rinoa’s arm a little.

In a whisper that only Selphie could hear, Rinoa said, “He looks a little miffed.”

“What? Who? Nida?” Selphie said too loudly.

Rinoa giggled. “Ssh. Nothing, nothing.”

They were interrupted as Zell loudly addressed the entire room. Everyone focused their attention on him. Before Selphie herself did, she risked a glance over at Seifer, but he too was listening to Zell, and looking more bored than Selphie had ever seen him. She bit back a smile and tuned into Zell as well.   
_ This is perfect. All of us back together again, like we were at the orphanage. So little has changed, and yet . . .  _ She thought of Rinoa’s growing baby, Nida making lemonade in the kitchen, and of Seifer sitting beside her.  _ And yet so much. Even though it took so much to get here, I’m glad it did happen. I wouldn’t trade this for anything in the world. _


	10. The Best Thing to Wake Up To in the Morning

First there was always coffee, and sometimes Selphie made it, some mornings Seifer made it. There was no reason or schedule they adhered to, but one of them would always wake up just a little bit earlier than the other, and whoever that might have been would make breakfast. This particular day it was Seifer who woke up first. A little after seven, Selphie was awoken by the smell of his fresh-brewing coffee and blueberry pancakes--with blueberries from their garden, no less, which was Selphie’s favorite part of what had come into their possession when she bought the place.

Rather than spend the time getting ready right away, that morning she decided to just throw on a bright yellow bathrobe over her underwear and tiptoed down to the kitchen. With a yawn, she sat down at the table and then stretched her arms and legs with a satisfied moan. From his place at the stovetop, Seifer glanced around to say good morning, but at the sight of her something seemed to have stopped the words from escaping his mouth. Instead he just stared at her in surprise, and only when one of the pancakes started burning did he look away again in order to rescue it.

“Morning,” Selphie said when she was done stretching.

Seifer flipped off the stove and brought over a plate piled with delicious pancakes. As he was getting some silverware, Selphie got up to snag the blueberry syrup from the countertop and set it right where she was sitting, intending to hog most of it. “Oh, it smells so  _ good _ .” She almost wanted to cry of happiness. There were few things better in life than pancakes, not to mention pancakes with fresh-picked blueberries.

And it was the first time they would get to try their blueberries. Selphie and Nida had picked them the day before, and only Nida had tasted them to make sure they were truly ripe. Selphie had wanted to wait, to first try them in some delicious meal made by Seifer’s hands. Now was that time and she could no longer wait a second more.

When everything was placed, Seifer sat down. “I’ve . . . I’ve never made blueberry pancakes before.”

As she piled four onto her plate, Selphie said, “No one would be able to tell.” She poured half the bottle of syrup on them. “Mhm!” she hummed happily.

“Hyne, don’t use all the syrup,” Seifer complained, stealing the bottle from her before she could pour more. “It’s pancakes with syrup, not syrup with pancakes.”

Without further ado, she gave him a cheeky look as she stuffed a massive bite into her mouth. When she couldn’t fit it all in, she groaned and then relinquished some of it back onto her plate.

Seifer gave her a disgusted expression and then drizzled a little syrup on his pancakes.

Selphie managed to chew and swallow the giant mass of pancakes, and followed up with a giant swig of coffee--luckily it wasn’t so fresh she burned all the taste buds off her tongue. Sighing contentedly, she slouched back in her chair. “Thanks for breakfast.”

He just shrugged and continued eating.

Smiling to herself, Selphie let her eyes linger on him a bit before digging back into her pancakes. Ten minutes later and the two of them had eaten every last crumb, Selphie somehow managing just as many as Seifer. He insisted on cleaning up as well, so Selphie took the last of the coffee with her out into the back. She sat down in a chair and waited for the sunrise, her legs tucked underneath her and the mug of coffee clutched in both hands. The mid-May air was warm, with the coolest and softest of breezes teasing the ends of Selphie’s hair. 

Seifer came out to join her some time later and leaned against the doorframe of the kitchen door. Folding his arms, he said, “We got patrol. Or are you not coming today?”

“Oh, I’m coming,” Selphie assured him. “I just felt like watching the sunrise today.”

“We see the sunrise every day,” Seifer pointed out.

She waved a hand above her head. “Not like this. Not to really  _ enjoy _ it. We’re too busy looking for monsters. Every once in awhile, we need to just sit and really appreciate it, you know?”

A few seconds passed and then she heard Seifer sigh. A few more and then he was standing next to her, hands in his pockets as he looked towards the horizon. The sun was only several minutes away and the sky was a milky pink and orange-yellow, stretching halfway across the sky, nearly to the other side of the horizon where it was still a faint shade of navy. The light was agreeable on the angles of Seifer’s face and Selphie found herself admiring him again--especially the focused purse of his lips.

She offered him her mug and without looking, his hand reached up a little to hook a finger around the handle. He took a long, slow sip, his eyes closed, and Selphie found herself smiling again. When he gave it back, he looked at her and must have noticed the gleam in her eyes. He suddenly tensed up and asked almost defensively, “What?”

Selphie gratefully took the mug back and looked back at the beginning sunrise. The pink and orange-yellow had both warmed and brightened in intensity. “Look,” she whispered rather than answer his question.

He did look, and this time the parting of his lips was gentle and filled with awe.

“I was inside most of the time during my Esthar years,” Selphie said, “so I never really got to see the sunrises. And when I was going to Trabia, the mountains were so close and tall that I didn’t see the sun until well into the day, when I was already in class and busy. At Balamb and during the war, I just didn’t have time to think about it too much.”

Seifer said nothing, eyes still enraptured with the colors. The sunrise added fire to his cerulean, and something about it brought back memories of Leviathan and Ifrit, particularly when she and Seifer had worked together to save Garden from Sanctus. Both of the guardian forces fit him well, two completely different sides of him that still managed to be so Seifer.

_ And me, too? _

Selphie finished the coffee and set it on the glass table beside her chair so she could stand beside Seifer, lean against his arm. “Too boring for Seifer Almasy?” she teased.

He scoffed. “I never said that.”

“You’re not saying much of anything,” Selphie said. “Which, I guess, isn’t a surprise at all, but it seems a little different this time.”

“I’m just trying to watch the Hynedamned sunrise, Selphie,” he said, but there was no irritation in his voice, though she was sure he must have wanted there to be.

She wrapped her arms around his arm. After some hesitation, her hand nudged at his and much to her pleasant surprise, his fingers interlocked with hers. A jolt of emotion shot through her chest at how easy it had been and she wondered if he was even consciously aware of what was happening. Either way, she was pleased and more than happy to let it last as long as the universe would allow.

They stood in silence as the sun made its way fully into the sky. The colors muted a little as blue sky replaced it, and then Seifer said, without moving his eyes from the sky still, “There’s no point in heading in to town for a patrol. All the districts will be claimed by the time we get there.”

“There’s all the other days. We can afford to miss a few,” Selphie said.

Seifer jerked a little at her words and then he was looking down at her. “What?”

“I’m not in the mood today is all,” Selphie said. “Rather, how about we go sell some of our fruit in town later? Then we can just enjoy our morning.”

Seemingly lost for words, Seifer’s mouth opened and then closed and he looked away again. Only then did she feel the pressure on her hand change, and he was looking down at their interlocked fingers.

“Sorry,” Selphie said, immediately letting go and standing up straight.

Seifer shrugged, but he had a look in his eye she couldn’t quite pin down.  _ Could it be . . . ? Ha, no, Selphie. That’s ridiculous. Of course not. _

“We should enjoy our mornings more often,” she said as nonchalantly as she could. “Mornings here are so nice. They’re not busy or noisy like in Esthar, and there’s no pressure of going to a full schedule of classes.” She paused before adding, “And if I’m going back to Esthar, then I should start taking full advantage of what Winhill is offering me, right?”

“You’re only deciding this now?” Seifer asked, slightly amused.

“The past few months have been different than the other ones,” Selphie said quietly. “I’ve had plenty of time to think.” 

_ I like waking up to breakfast with you, _ she thought. She wanted to say it out loud, but there was a fear tugging at her stomach, and despite how well she and Seifer now knew each other, there were still some things they hadn’t really broached. It was enough for her that she simply knew.

Seifer’s nose and brow scrunched up, and he looked almost angry, though his voice just as nonchalant as she was trying to be: “When  _ are _ you planning on going back to Esthar?”

That was the question. The others had asked her in their weekly chats, but Selphie never had an answer for them. The best she could give was “maybe a few years, I don’t know.” None of them seemed satisfied with that, but they never pushed and Selphie was grateful for that. With the dramatic reduction in Garden’s power and activities, everyone was a little foggy on their exact future except maybe Quistis, who settled far too well into the role of headmistress to consider leaving anytime soon.

“Haven’t decided,” Selphie said.

“I didn’t think you’d last here very long,” Seifer admitted.

Selphie chuckled and crossed an arm over her chest. “Neither did I, honestly.”

“You don’t have to decide,” Seifer said. He cringed a little and then reworded: “I mean, don’t think about it. One day you’ll wake up and just know it’s time to go. That’s when you decide.”

Selphie hummed thoughtfully. “Don’t let it loom over me, you mean?”

“Sure, whatever, if that’s how you interpret it.”

With a snort, Selphie shot back, “I’m not interested in my interpretation, I’m trying to figure out what  _ you _ really mean. Hey.” She tugged on his sleeve so he was facing her. “You okay?” She scrunched up her own face to mimic his. “I’m not worrying about it, and neither should you. You’re right: I’m here right now and I like it, so I should focus on that.”

Seifer’s face unscrunched. “I’m not worrying.”

“Mhm, sure, sure,” she said and then pulled her robe tighter around her. “Well, I suppose I should get dressed. And then I’m going to pick some more fruit we can sell today. I think the blackberries and plums are ready. The apricots are  _ almost _ there.” She held up two fingers, a tiny gap between them to show just how close.

“I’ll get a head start, I guess,” Seifer said. “If we’re not going on patrol.”

“Don’t pick too many without me!” she insisted as she backed away to the kitchen.

Seifer shook his head to hide a tiny smile. “Well, it depends on how long you take.”   


Selphie cupped her hands around her mouth, even though they were only a few yards apart. “I’ll be faster than you can blink!” She turned around and disappeared into the kitchen, but before she went upstairs, she snuck a peek at Seifer through the kitchen window. He was looking up at the sky, a content smile on his face.   
_ You’re right. I’ll know when to go back. For now, I’m just going to focus all my energy on this place. The place we built together.  _


	11. The Anniversary of Their Night in the Meadow

Winhill got hot in summer, though nothing compared to the orphanage. Enough clouds dotted the sky to keep the brunt of the sun’s heat from scorching everything around them. Everything was green and colorful and alive. Selphie spent every night on the back patio, writing in an idea journal she’d started at the beginning of June. She had far too many project ideas for when she finally returned to Esthar, and writing them down was the best way to make sure she truly remembered them. She’d had enough of memory loss in her life, and she had sworn her own personal oath to do everything in her power to make sure the thoughts in her mind lived on as the most vibrant of memories and actualities. Sometimes Seifer would join her, sharpening or cleaning Hyperion, or reading--a hobby he’d taken up recently and had thrown himself into during his spare time.

They usually said nothing at all on those kinds of evenings. If anything, they’d make a few passing comments about something random that had popped in their head, mostly inconsequential and silly. But they weren’t there to talk, just to do their own thing in each other’s company. Selphie found it strange she had little to no desire to go on and on about anything and everything, but in the end she was grateful more than anything. There were few people in the world she could truly sit in silence with for a long period of time.

Boko too would join them, curling up under one of their chairs or sitting at the edge of the patio looking out over the fields in case a squirrel or rabbit made an appearance.

At around midnight, the breeze began to pick up. Tired with keeping her pages down, and exhausted in general from the long morning that day on a grueling patrol, Selphie closed her journal and set it on the table beside her. She stretched her arms into the air and let them plop down noisily onto her legs. The sound of it snared Seifer’s attention, and he looked up from his book, blinking out the focus.

“I should probably head to bed,” Selphie mused. “Patrol this morning was rougher than usual.”

“I know, I was there,” Seifer said.

Selphie put on a thinking face, her voice falsely skeptical, “Were you? I thought it was just me taking down all the monsters today.” She gave him an impudent grin. “Or, that’s what it felt like anyway.”

Seifer gave her a dry look and snapped his book closed.

“Did it tire you out, too?” Selphie asked with a curious look. “I got a wild idea.”

He frowned at the word choice. “And what’s that?” he deadpanned.

“What if we stop monster patrolling and leave it to the, er, younger kids,” she said, completely serious. 

It was something she’d given a lot of thought to since more people had moved into town, and the duties divided into districts among the first volunteers to show up in the morning. Fighting monsters reminded her of her Garden days, and though she thought back on those days fondly, she was different than she was then. Her dreams lay in other directions, in innovation in Esthar. And she was turning thirty that year. Opting out of kicking monster ass and focusing instead on the path that led her to her truly desired destination was more sensical, and easier on her body--which tired more easily, though she hated to admit it to herself.

Seifer’s brow furrowed. “You, stop fighting monsters?”

With a heavy sigh, uncharacteristic of Selphie, she said, “I wouldn’t have thought of it when I first came here. I didn’t! All I wanted to do was go out on patrol. But things have changed and I’ve got my sights on what I really want. Fighting monsters isn’t a part of that.”

“Are you going to Esthar?” Seifer asked, and she detected a hint of panic in it.

She bit back a smile. “No, not yet. There’s still things I want to do here. It’s a good space to come up with ideas, to work on them before I get to the craziness of Esthar. And working in the fields and selling fruit and all that, it’s . . .” She cringed at her next word choice, one eye closing while the other tentatively looked at Seifer: “Therapeutic.”

Seifer got to his feet. “Fine. But I’m not stopping.”

“I thought you might say that,” she said, also getting to her feet. “Might I recommend recruiting another partner, then?”

He made a face. “What are you trying to say?”

She put her hands up in a mollifying gesture. “Hey, hey, it’s dangerous to go it alone, is all. Imagine what would have happened if Nida hadn’t been with me for all those years after the war.”

Seifer’s eyes narrowed. “I went it alone after the war. I’ll do it again.”

Cringing again, this time at his blatant exclusion of her, a frustrated Selphie growled, “Come on, Seifer! Stop pretending like you’re always perfectly fine all the time! That you don’t need anybody ever! And you weren’t alone after the war, you had Leviathan. And before that you always had Fujin and Raijin!”

Their names slipped out without her thinking, and the air became even tenser at the sound of them. Selphie and Seifer hadn’t mentioned Fujin or Raijin since the night on the roof, when Selphie had apologized, when the both of them finally talked about the day Fujin died. It had cleared the air, but bringing them up again, even in a different light, still affected the both of them. And the silence between them now was suffocating rather than relaxing.

It was shattered by Boko, who suddenly barked himself up into a frenzy and ran off into the fields, probably spotting a choice piece of prey.

“Boko!” Selphie called out, but her voice was swallowed by the wind. “Boko, come back!”

Seifer tried as well, but even his booming voice was mostly lost on the wind. He still seemed upset from the conversation though, and swiped his book off his chair. “He’ll come back,” he said.

Selphie pretended to ignore him, her eyes serious and focused on the dark, swaying fields before them. Boko had stopped barking, or the wind had swallowed it up. With a crescent moon there was little light on the land, and Selphie couldn’t see any specific moving shapes.

“Storm’s coming in, we should go inside,” Seifer said.

“Not until Boko comes back,” Selphie insisted, not looking at him.

“Selphie, he always comes back,” Seifer insisted impatiently. “He’s not a Hynedamned idiot. He’s been out there a thousand times and he sees better in the dark than either of us. Just leave the door open for him and everything’ll be fine.”

Finally, Selphie looked at him, though only a glaring glance, “Then you go inside. I’ll wait right here to make sure he’s okay. Monsters can see well in the dark, too, and to them, Boko’s just as much a piece of prey as a rabbit is to him.”

A gust of wind knocked Selphie’s notebook off the table. Seifer rescued it, holding it right next to his book. “Selphie--”

“You may be able to go it alone just fine, Seifer,” Selphie said, “but Boko can’t.”

“Look,” Seifer started forcefully, “I didn’t mean--”

Another gust of wind drowned out his words, and Selphie ignored him anyway. She had a bad feeling. It wasn’t the first time Boko had run off after an animal before, but he had usually come right back, preferring the safety of visual contact with Selphie or Seifer. The longer the seconds dragged on, turning to minutes, a ball of dread woke up in Selphie’s stomach that she couldn’t ignore. Boko was the closest thing she had to a child and she wouldn’t let any harm come to him. The oncoming storm and furious gale made the choice easier to make.

Selphie started down the hill to the fields after him. In the wind, the plants slapped painfully against her exposed legs, but she could hardly think about it now. She cupped her hands around her mouth every few yards and shouted, “Boko!” When she received no response, she continued running on until she found another spot to call out for him.

In the very middle of the field, Seifer appeared behind her. “Can’t see a damned thing out here!”

She made a face. “Then go back.”

“Not until we find him,” Seifer said, his eyes blazing with determination.

Selphie had little time for surprise. She accepted his change of heart, worried more about Boko. The two of them continued on through the field, calling out for him. At one point, Selphie looked back towards the house, blocking her hair from getting in her face. It looked so tiny in the distance, and she knew they were nearly to the other end of the fields on this side of the house. There was still too much ground to logically cover.

“What I would give for Leviathan now!” Seifer shouted in the din.

So did she wish she had Ifrit, but that wasn’t in the realm of being an option. Come on, Boko. Where are you, boy?

Something faint tickled her ears, and Selphie jumped on it, whether it was Boko, something else, or simply her mind playing tricks on her. “Over there!” she pointed towards a grove of trees near the road and the two of them sprinted towards it.

The closer they got, the more pronounced and clear the sound became, until Selphie was positive it was Boko barking. They entered the grove, and there, on his hind legs like he was trying to climb a tree, was Boko. Up in the branches, safe and sound, glimmered the eyes of a creature Selphie couldn’t see well enough to recognize.

“Boko!” Selphie called out furiously.

His ears pricked and he immediately came bounding over to her, tongue lolling and tail wagging like there was nothing wrong at all. Selphie got to her knees and wrapped her arms around his neck when they reached each other.

“Don’t do that again, you idiot!” Selphie said into his fur.

He only barked in response. She moved away and scratched behind one of his ears.

Seifer crouched beside the two of them to pet Boko as well and Selphie avoided his gaze. He had been right and Selphie’s bad feeling had been illogical. She got to her feet and started back towards the house. Waving an arm in the air, she called out, “Let’s go, Boko!”

He barked once and bounded after her.

Halfway to the house, Seifer took Selphie’s arm and the two of them stopped. Boko did too, luckily, taking to circling them, keeping the perimeter secure.

“What?” Selphie asked, more harshly than she’d intended.

“You know what today is?”

She shirked out of his grip. “What?” But even as she asked it, the answer came to her. It had crossed her mind earlier that day too, and she had made a note on the calendar to do something about it. It wasn’t exactly something to celebrate, but definitely acknowledge. Not only did it mean a great deal to Selphie and Seifer’s relationship, but where they were in their own lives. In a meadow very similar to the one they stood in now, two years ago, a drunk and angry Selphie had come across an unsuspecting and sober Seifer.

Thunder rolled in the distance, and Selphie thought how perfect that would have been two years ago. But all her hurt and animosity had fled, and now the two of them simply stood in the windy meadow, uncertain.

“You can be a real jerk sometimes, you know that?” she accused him.

“And you can be a stubborn dumbass,” Seifer shot right back. “This isn’t news.”

Selphie half-laughed, half-scoffed. “So you were right, Boko was fine and I overreacted.” She shrugged dramatically, throwing her hands out at her sides.

“It wasn’t about Boko,” Seifer growled.

“Yeah?” Selphie asked. “Then what was it?”

“You’re wrong,” Seifer said, keeping his eyes on her, and now they looked ready for a fight--not a fight with her, but something else, as if there were something out there ready to threaten him.

Another crack of thunder rolled over the area, a deep and infuriated snarl that halted Boko and had him raising his hackles, also aware of some threat to him and his family.

“About what?” she asked, tired of his vagueness.

“Having Leviathan wasn’t the same as having someone like Fujin or Raijin around,” Seifer said, his voice raised to compensate for the wind. “Having them was better. They were family.”

Fearing this was a prelude to anger about Fujin’s death and Raijin’s imprisonment, Selphie looked away, her jaw clenched and teeth gritted.

“I’ll do anything for family,” Seifer said. “You’re family to me now.”

Selphie looked at him quickly. “What?” she said, though it was lost in the wind.

“Don’t you forget that, Tilmitt,” Seifer said. Without giving her time for a response, he raised a hand in the air and ordered Boko to follow him to the house again. The dog bounded a few feet after him then stopped, waiting for Selphie to move.

Only after taking a moment to collect herself did Selphie follow after them. Inside the house, safe from the wind, she saw her notebook lying safely on the counter, and she held it close to her chest. Rain started clattering against the kitchen window and back door, just a few pelts at first, then growing until it was practically monsooning outside. Selphie watched it through the back door, leaning a shoulder against the glass and wood, grateful they had found Boko and brought him back before the rain had come.

_“You’re family to me now. Don’t you forget that, Tilmitt._

She went upstairs, hoping to talk with him again, but his bedroom door was closed and Boko was lying just outside of it. When Selphie creaked up the stairs, Boko lifted his head and barked once in greeting.

“Good night, boy,” Selphie said, and went into her room, letting Boko in before she shut the door. He curled up in his bed at the foot of hers and was asleep before she had even changed into pajamas.

Before she turned her lamp off, she listened for any sounds from Seifer’s room, but she heard nothing and sleep was calling to her.

She turned off the lamp. _Good night, Seifer._


	12. The Final Realization That Happened in the Kitchen

Selphie had a massive party planned for her thirtieth. Everyone was due to arrive tomorrow, the day of, and she was busy making all the preparations, enlisting Nida’s help mostly while Seifer tended to the business of the fields and the fruit selling business. Each on their own, Selphie and Nida were satisfactory cooks, even really good, but working together they were unstoppable in making the most delicious of creations. Of course, neither of them seemed to be as adept at making blueberry pancakes as Seifer, who had found his true calling in life ever since that first day making them.

Nida’s turned out all right. The pancakes weren’t for the party, but to keep the cooks fed and energized. The carbs would sufficiently keep them full so they didn’t feel the need to steal scraps of what they were making for the party, which were not to be consumed until the party under any circumstance, desperate or otherwise.

“Here, I’ll clean up while you start the next thing,” Nida said. “Er--” He checked the tablet that held all the recipes Selphie had bookmarked, which Nida hadn’t read until they were ready to make the next one. All he knew was the ingredients they had bought; what they were going to be used for was a complete surprise to him. Now as he read the next one his eyes bulged. “Are you sure this is a real thing?” He scrolled through it. “It sounds terrible. It might as well be called garbage can stew. I don’t think there’s one food group that’s not in there.”

Selphie snatched the tablet from him and wiggled her fingers for him to clean up. “I’ve read good reviews about it.” She began picking out the ingredients for it and setting it on the newly-opened table space as Nida cleared away dishes.

The back door opened and Seifer came in, sweaty and covered in soil. He opened the fridge with an elbow, took out the pitcher of lemonade and drank straight from it. 

“Seifer, use a glass,” Selphie said.

He kicked the door closed and started to the cabinets that held the glassware. Nida, turning around sharply from the sink to grab the last dishes on the table, collided with him. Then came the sound of shattering glass and Seifer grunting, along with a chair as the big blond pulled it down with him in a vain attempt to catch himself.

“I’m so sorry!” Nida said, moving to help Seifer.

Selphie nudged Nida to the side and took Seifer’s forearm, pulling him to a sitting position where he could rest back against the fridge. Seifer, eyes shut, clutched the side of his head, groaning. “The party isn’t supposed to start until tomorrow,” he complained.

Leaning her hands on her thighs, Selphie said, “Sorry, sorry. How bad does your head hurt? Do you want some ice?”

“No,” he said and opened his eyes a little.

Selphie smiled. “Hey, there.”

Nida held up three fingers. “Can you see okay? How many fingers am I holding up?”

Seifer closed his eyes again. “This guy serious?”

Selphie chuckled. “I’ll tell him to lay off the booze next time. You got that, Nida?”

Opening one eye, Seifer, said, “Who the fuck is Nida?”

“What?” Nida’s jaw dropped and his face went pale. “It’s Nida--your pal! We used to go to Garden together. We-we-we--” He pointed a finger as he found the right word: “--worked together! trying to take down Sanctus, remember? I was always following Selphie around.”

Selphie lifted a hand and bit down on a knuckle to keep from laughing.

Nida put his hands on Seifer’s shoulders, shook him a little. “For the love of Hyne, please tell me you remember! Should we take you to a doctor?”

“Relax,” Seifer said, pushing Nida off and getting to his feet. He was a little wobbly, and Selphie offered a hand to help him steady himself. He rubbed his head and then grinned down at Nida. “I know who you are, idiot. I’m just messing with you.”

Nida blinked and then his shoulders sagged. “Oh. You . . . You remember. Gosh, I can’t believe I fell for it.” He chuckled a little. “Don’t scare me like that, man! I was really worried there.”

Selphie laughed now and put a hand on Nida in support.

“I wouldn’t forget you, Nida,” Seifer said, slapping him on the arm playfully.

“Are you sure you’re all right?” Nida asked.

Seifer shook his head a little, as if clearing his equilibrium, and then nodded to answer Nida. “Yeah, yeah. Just a little bump. You think a fall like that would take me down?”

“Give it ten years,” Selphie said and Seifer shook his head at her.

“I’ll clean up that glass,” Nida insisted, sweeping the two of them into the corner of the kitchen while he slowly and carefully began sweeping every inch of floor that might have contained glass.

Selphie put a hand on her hip and looked up at Seifer. “Your head really okay? Or were you just acting all macho?”

Seifer rolled his eyes and folded his arms. “I really wanted that lemonade.”

“That’s what you get,” she said, poking him in the arm, “for not using a glass.”

He grabbed her fingers to stop her poking him and held on tight so she couldn’t escape. “I drink out of it all the time,” he grumbled.

“Sure, but not when it’s lemonade for guests,” Selphie said and gave up tugging her fingers out of his grasp.

Feeling no resistance, he let go. “I would have drunk the whole thing anyway, leaving none at all for ‘our guests.’”

“Well, there’s none for them now,” Selphie said, watching Nida, “so I guess it all came to the same end. I’ll need to go get more lemons.”

“I can get some,” Seifer said.

Selphie smiled. “Thanks. Then I can start on that stew.”

Seifer groaned. “That Hyne-awful recipe you showed me yesterday? Selphie, it’s shit. It’s what you feed to dogs when there’s nothing good you can make with it for humans.”

Nida lifted the dust pan full of glass, waved to them, and made his way out the back door and out of sight.

Selphie leaned around Seifer to look out the window. “Where’s he going?” She glanced up at him. “We have a trash can, right?”

“Why are you looking at me? I didn’t do anything with the trash can. You've been cooking in here for hours,” Seifer said, looking down at her. He blinked and started a little, perhaps surprised at her proximity to him. But he quickly recovered and said, “He’s probably going to melt it down and make another glass sculpture.”

“Mmm,” she hummed. “A plausible scenario. You should be a detective.” She bit her lip and then laughed a little at that. “Detective Almasy, a cigarette in his mouth, a gun in his hand, and a woman on his arm. Criminals don’t dare go out when Almasy’s on the beat.”

Seifer snorted. “The hell you talking about, Tilmitt?” 

Again, she went back to poking him, but only once, in the chest. “Remember, you used to be on the Disciplinary Committee. You have experience. I’m sure they’d hire you.”

He took her hand, even though she had only poked him once. “I’m not going to become a detective. Let people solve their own problems.”

“Mmm,” she hummed again with a smile. “I still think you’d make a good one. And I’m sure Esthar would hire you on as a cop, at the very least.”

Seifer’s eyebrows raised slightly, but he said nothing, just stared at her.

They stayed that way for a minute, and then Selphie said, “Can I have my hand back?”

“What?”

_Maybe he hit his head harder than he thought._

“My hand,” she said, eyes glancing down dramatically.

He let go and then gently moved her aside. “I need to go clean up. You have fun with that ‘stew.’”

“I will,” she promised him. “Thank you.”

Seifer looked at her for a few seconds, and then when her eyes widened a little in a question, he started towards the living room.

A thought crossed her mind. “Hey, wait.” She reached out and grabbed the back of his shirt, stopping him. “You should still drink some water if you’ve been out all day. One sec.” She held up a finger and then quickly took a glass from the cabinet and filled it with water from the tap. “Stay hydrated. Remember how they used to say that at Garden? ‘Dehydration is a soldier’s worst enemy.’” She offered the glass to him.

“Right,” he said, carefully taking the glass and chugging the whole thing down.

Selphie wiggled her fingers, asking for it back so she could set it in the sink.

Seifer looked at the glass, brows furrowed, and then extended it to her. She took it, but Seifer didn’t let go. They both stood there, each holding the glass.

“Uh, Seifer?” Selphie prompted. “You sure you don’t need any ice? Maybe you should sit down.”

Seifer moved towards her, his hand still on the glass, until he stood right in front of her. “Thanks,” he murmured, as he looked down at her, a gentle but unreadable expression on his face.

“No problem,” she whispered, heart thumping in her throat. _Okay, he definitely hit his head harder than he thought._

“Selphie,” he said in a low voice, lips barely moving to say it. His hand lifted to cradle her face and then his head moved down, lips meeting hers.

The glass fell to the floor between them and shattered on the ground near their feet.

Selphie’s hand came up, gently wrapping around Seifer’s wrist, but she didn’t try to pull him away, she just wanted to hold him. Because her chest was fluttering, much differently than when she had kissed Irvine so many years ago. The fluttering was hot, and the faster it got the more it spread the heat through her body until her face felt like it was burning, her lips most of all. She knew the heat of Ifrit well, had used it to power herself during a fight, but Ifrit was ice compared to Seifer. The fire that Seifer gave her was enough for her to evolve into a guardian force herself, more powerful even than Bahamut and Eden.

She had to take a breath, and it came out as a gasp. Seifer kept near, his forehead touching hers, a small, awed smile on his face. She breathed, “Seifer, I think you hit your head a little too hard.”

Seifer laughed once, a soft one she’d never heard before.

The door slid open and Seifer pulled away to an unsuspicious distance.

“All taken care o--” Nida looked at the floor in despair. “Did I miss that?”

“I dropped a glass while you were gone,” Seifer said. “I wanted to see if it would break.”

Nida laughed in confusion. “Ha, what? Well, let me clean that up too. Selphie, you don’t have shoes on, be careful!”

“Oh, you’re right, I can--”

Seifer’s arms moved behind her knees and he scooped her up into his arms. “I got shoes on.”

Selphie blinked.

Nida looked at the arrangement with a tiny smile. “That’s great. Thanks, Seifer.”

Leaving Nida, the two of them vacated the kitchen. Well within the safe confines of the living room, and where Nida couldn’t see them from the kitchen, Seifer set Selphie down.

“I should go get cleaned up,” Seifer said, his voice betraying nothing, as if just a few seconds ago they hadn’t been kissing in the kitchen over some broken glass. He looked like the same old Seifer, if only his gaze was a little softer than usual.

Selphie looked at him and faintly said, “Okay.”

He took one step and Selphie was saying, “W-wait--Seifer, wait.” She took his hand, her thumb running over one of the creases in his palm, filled with dirt from working in the fields for hours. 

The nonchalance lifted, and he looked a little scared. _You hate anything that breaks down that tough guy exterior you have. You probably kissed me without thinking, didn’t you? And now you’re regretting it._

“I wasn’t just joking earlier,” she said, voice careful and slow. “When I go to Esthar, it’d be nice if you came with me. You could do whatever you wanted there. You don’t have to stay in Winhill forever.”

He frowned. “After what I did, Selphie? They’d never let me back there.”

“They will,” Selphie said firmly. “I know them. Just like I know you. What’s important is that you’d want to go. That’s the only thing I’m worrying about.”

Seifer tried to pull his hand away, but she held on tight.

“Come with me when I go,” she said. “When I wake up and realize it’s time to leave here. Come with me then. Roomies until we’re eighty.”

“Roomies?” he laughed a little and shook his head.

Selphie didn’t laugh. “Okay, not roomies.” She swallowed and then moved close to him, as he had done to her in the kitchen right before the kiss. “Something else, then.”

Again, he breathed out her name: “Selphie . . .” But his face turned away. “I shouldn’t have done that in there.”

“Why not?”

“I’ll just fuck everything up,” he said. “I did it with Rinoa, I did with Garden, and I’ll do it with you, too. That’s just what I do.”

Selphie scoffed. “If you ruined everything, do you think I’d still be here right now? What about Sanctus? What about you taking care of Amma and hunting monsters around here when no one else would? How about you going to Edea’s and helping fix things up? You and the rest of the orphanage gang are all on good terms. If you really fucked things up all the time, you wouldn’t be here either. You wouldn’t have people that love and support you, that you love and support right back, even if you won’t admit it.”

She grabbed a fistful of his shirt. “Two years ago I wanted you dead, and now today I’m in love with you. How’s that for a turnaround, huh? Does that sound like you fucking up?” She let go of his shirt and just rested her hand against his chest, suddenly self-conscious. Her eyes darted away.

“You should do what you want to do,” she whispered, “instead of letting your fear of the future and the past hold you back. I know it’s hard sometimes, but . . . that’s why we’re in this together. We have been since we met each other again at the orphanage. So, will you go to Esthar with me?”

She looked at him again.

Seifer was smiling the tiniest bit, and the warmth returned to her chest. “I’m an idiot,” he said.

“And I’m a stubborn dumbass,” she finished. “This isn’t news.”

Seifer laughed a little and touched her cheek with a thumb. “I’ll go to Esthar with you. Of course I will. But I’m not going to be a damn detective.”

Her whole body brightened and she couldn’t keep the grin off her face. “Really? Wow. Okay, I--I didn’t expect you to agree so quickly. It’s almost as if you’ve already thought about--” She stopped, blinked a few times, and then said, “You’ve thought about this already, haven’t you?”

He nodded and added his other hand, so he was cradling both sides of her face. “You really think after everything I did that I deserve this?”

“You don’t need me to tell you that,” she whispered. “Or anyone else. What do _you_ think?”

Seifer moved his face close to hers, his lips just half an inch away. “All I know is that somehow I fell in love with Selphie Tilmitt, the Messenger Girl from Squad A. Right now, I guess that’s all that matters.”

He took her lips slowly, and only for a few seconds. Then he pulled himself away from her and said softly, “I really need to go clean up.”

Selphie beamed at him. “Okay.” She pointed a thumb over her shoulder. “‘Kay, I’ll be over in the kitchen with Nida. If you want to help when you’re done.”

“I’ll make some lemonade,” he said, backing up towards the stairs.

“I’ll have Nida make us a new pitcher with the broken glass,” Selphie said.

Seifer just shook his head, a smile in his eyes, and then he was up the stairs.

Selphie tiptoed back to the kitchen and poked her head in. Nida was sitting at the table, a dustpan full of glass beside him. When she said his name, he looked over his shoulder, face entirely red.

“Were you listening?”

“Sound carries in here!”

But Selphie just laughed. “I’m going to get shoes and then we can start on the stew.”

Nida got to his feet and saluted. “Yes, ma’am!”


End file.
